JOSEPH     PAYNE. 


LECTURES 


lN   •      '   '  •  ' 


ON  THE 


SCIENCE  AND  ART 


OF 


EDUCATION, 

WITH  OTHEE  LECTUEEs: 

BY 

JOSEPH  PAYNE, 

THE   FIRST    PROFESSOR   OF  THE  SCIENCE   AND   ART   OF   EDUCA- 
TION IN  THE  OOIiLEGE  OF  PBEOEPTORS,  LONDON,  ENG. 


NEW  YORK: 

E.  L.  KELLOGG  &  CO. 

1884. 


<(^\ 


COPYRIGHT  BY 

E.  L.  KELLOGG  &  CO., 

1884. 


CONTENTS: 

PAGE 

Preface.  iv. 

A  Sketch  of  the  Life  of  Joseph  Payne.  vii. 

The  Science  and  Art  of  Education.  6 

The  Theory  or  Science  of  Education.  39 

The  Practice  or  Art  of  Education.  75 

Educational  Methods.  105 

Principles  of  the  Science  of  Education.  143 

Theories  of  Teaching  with  their  Corresponding  Prac- 
tice. 151 

The  Importance  of  the  Training  of  the  Teacher.  174 

The  True  Foundation  of  Science  Teaching.  193 

Pestalozzi:  the  Influence  of  his  Principles  and  Prac- 
tice or  Elementary  Education.  207 

Froebel  and  the  Kindergarten  System  of  Elementary 
Education.  232 

iii« 


543600 


PREFACE. 

Joseph  Payne's  writings  possess  a  high  value 
on  account  of  the  scientific  form  which  his  state- 
ments pertaining  to  education  take  on.  The  crys- 
talizing  process  seems  to  have  set  in;  truths  no 
longer  stand  separate,  but  tend  to  organize. 
During  the  latter  part  of  this  century  the 
question — Has  Education  a  scientific  foundation  ? 
began  to  be  asked,  doubtfully  by  most.  The  Art 
of  Teaching  had  been  learned  by  imitation ;  the 
teacher  sought  no  principles,  because  he  never 
heard  they  existed.  But  great  men  from  time  to 
time  became  teachers.  Eabelais,  Montaigne,  Locke, 
the  Jesuits,  Rosseau,  Pestalozzi,  Froebel,  and  many 
others,  rolled  up  a  rich  mass  of  teaching-facts,  and 
partially  arranged  them  in  order.  It  needed  next 
a  philosophic  mind  to  deal  with  these  discoveries, 
to  state  their  value  and  explain  them.  Joseph 
Payne  seemed  raised  up  for  this  purpose ;  his  cast 
of  mind,  education  and  experience,  fitted  him  to 
investigate  this  field  of  thought. 

Remember  that  thousands  of  teachers  had 
read  what  Pestalozzi  and  Froebel  had  done.  Joseph 
Payne  saw  their  work  was  founded  on  the  growth- 
iv. 


PREFACE.  V 

laws  of  the  human  mind,  and  that  it  was  eminent 
for  that  very  reason.  His  writings  cannot  conceal 
his  joy  at  thus  finding  a  solid  ground  for  methods 
of  teaching.  His  circle  of  readers  has  been  stead- 
ily widening  since  his  death;  like  other  men  of 
genius,  he  was  appreciated  by  a  small  circle  while 
living. 

A  growing  desire  is  apparent  in  this  country  for 
a  better  comprehension  of  education ;  even  teach- 
ers in  obscure  places,  on  low  salaries,  are  reading 
educational  books,  so  that  the  publishers  felt  en- 
couraged to  put  forth  this  volume.  It  contains  the 
most  valuable  of  all  of  Mr.  Payne's  pubHshed 
works.    The  English  edition  contains : 

*1.  Theory  of  Education ;  *2.  Practice  of  Educa- 
tion ;  *3.  Educational  Methods ;  *4.  Principles  of  the 
Science  of  Education ;  5.  Training  and  Equipment  of 
the  Teacher ;  *6.  Importance  of  the  Training  of  the 
Teacher ;  *7.  Science  and  Art  of  Education ;  *8.  True 
Foundation  of  Science  Teaching;  9.  Preface,  etc.. 
to  Miss  Youmans'  Essay  on  the  Culture  of  the^ 
Observing  Powers  of  Children ;  10.  Curriculum  of 
Modern  Education;  11.  Importance  of  Improving 
our  Ordinary  Methods  of  Sckool  Instruction;  12. 
The  Past,  Present,  etc.,  of  the  College  of  Preceptors ; 
13.  Proposal  for  Endowment  of  Professorship  of 
the  Science  and  Art  of  Education  in  College  of  Pre- 
ceptors ;  14.  A  Compendious  Exposition  of  Jacotot's 
System  of  Education. 

This  volume  contains  all  of  the  above  that  are 
marked  with  a  star,  and  besides  a  lecture  on  Pes- 
talozzi  and  a  lecture  on  Froebel— lectures  which  did 
much  to  make  him  famous.  These  lectures  are  not 
in  the  English  edition ;  so  that  in  this  small  volume 


VI.  PREFACE. 

the  American  reader  has  all  of  Mr,  Payne's  writ- 
ings that  wijl  be  of  practical  value  to  him.  Mr. 
Payne  was  Professor  of  the  Art  and  Science  of 
Education  in  the  College  of  Preceptors  in  London, 
and  lectures  12  and  13  relate  to  matters  of  no  im- 
portance to  us.  Lecture  5  discusses  men  and  mat- 
"ters  that  are  only  interesting  to  English  teachers. 
Lecture  9  is  a  preface  to  an  American  book  repub- 
lished in  England.  Lecture  10  discusses  the  claims 
of  classics  and  science.  Lecture  11  discusses  edu- 
cation reports  and  results,  and  was  interesting,  per- 
haps, at  the  time  to  English  readers.  Lecture  14  is 
the  republication  of  a  little  pamphlet  published  by 
Mr.  Payne  in  1830,  and  discusses  the  teaching  of  a 
foreign  language. 

It  will  be  seen,  therefore,  that  this  volume  con- 
tains those  writings  of  Mr.  Payne  that  have  value 
to  every  teacher  who  seeks  the  foundation  prin- 
ciples of  the  noble  Art  of  Teaching, 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE   LIFE  OF 
JOSEPH  PAYNE. 

Joseph  Payne,  one  of  the  greatest  teachers  and 
educational  reformers  of  modern  times,  was  born 
at  Bury  St.  Edmunds,  England,  on  the  2d  of  March, 
1808.  Little  is  known  of  his  early  life,  but  it  must 
have  been  comparatively  humble  for  this  very 
reason,  as  well  as  for  the  fact  that  at  an  early 
period  he  was  under  the  necessity  of  earning  his 
own  living.  His  boyhood  instruction  was  probably 
very  meagre,  as  he  says  that  the  first  teacher  under 
whom  he  really  learned  anything  was  a  Mr.  Free- 
man, to  whom  he  went  when  fourteen  years  of  age. 
His  life  at  this  period  must  have  been  a  busy  one. 
Stil],  like  all  great  heroes,  he  realized  the  worth  of 
time ;  for  several  common-place  books  and  various 
*'  extract "  pamphlets  still  exist  to  bear  evidence  to 
his  mental  industry.  At  the  age  of  twenty  he  be- 
came a  tutor  at  Camberwell,  in  the  family  of  David 
Fletcher.  Here  the  young  children  of  his  patron 
were  joined  in  their  studies  by  others  of  their  play- 
mates, and  all  became  the  wards  of  Payne's  enthu- 
siasm. Indeed  he  showed  so  much  energy  and  tact 
that  soon  a  select  school  sprang  up  and  gradually 
vii. 


Vlil.     A  SKETCH   OF  THE  LIFE  OF  JOSEPH  PAYISTE. 

developed  into  the  "Denmark  Hill  Grammar 
School."  This  school  shortly  became  famous,  and, 
in  conjunction  with  ^Mr.  Fletcher,  was  carried  on 
for  a  number  of  years.  About  this  time  Payne  be- 
came acquainted  with  a  Miss  Dyer,  who  was  in 
charge  of  a  girls'  school  of  high  standing,  and  her 
tastes  and  sympathies  soon  blended  in  marriage 
with  his,  although  she  continued  her  school  for 
some  years  thereafter.  In  1845  Mr.  Payne  con- 
nected himself  with  a  school  at  Mansion  House, 
Letherhead.  Here  he  spent  eighteen  more  years  of 
his  hf e  in  winning  new  laurels  as  Head  Master  of 
one  of  the  best  private  schools  in  England.  In  1863, 
having  amassed  sufficient  means  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  his  modest  tastes,  he  withdrew  from  teach- 
ing directly,  and  devoted  himself  to  writing,  lec- 
turing, and  advancing  the  welfare  of  the  College 
of  Preceptors.  In  this  college  he  took  a  profound 
interest,  and  when  in  1873  a  Professorship  of  the 
Science  and  Art  of  Education  was  founded  in  that 
institution,  Mr.  Payne  was  called  to  fill  it.  This 
was  the  first  chair  of  the  kind  established  in  any 
respectable  English  or  American  college. 

During  all  the  years  of  his  active  teaching  he  was 
not  only  advancing  the  cause  of  education  by  put- 
ting forward  his  own  theories,  but  he  became  an 
earnest  student  of  the  systems  of  others.  Thus  he 
studied  and  admired  Frcebel,  Pestalozzi  and  Jac- 
otot.  Payno  was  also  a  strong  supporter  of  **  wo- 
men's higher  education,"  and  a  vigorous  student  of 
English  and  French  philology.  He  died  April  30, 
1876,  having  in  his  life  work  laid  the  corner-stone  of 
a  monument  that  will  some  day  be  raised  to  him  as 
one  of  the  eminent  founders  of  the  New  Education. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION 

At  the  beginning  of  last  year,  I  delivered,  in  this 
room,  a  lecture  intended  to  inaugurate  the  Course 
of  Lectures  and  Lessons  on  the  Science  and  Art  of 
Education,  which  the  Council  of  the  College  of 
Preceptors  had  appointed  me  to  undertake.  The 
experiment  then  about  to  be  tried  was  a  new  one  in 
this  country  ;  for,  although  we  have  had  for  some 
years  colleges  intended  to  prepare  elementary  teach- 
ers for  their  work,  nothing  of  the  kind  existed  for 
the  middle  class  and  higher  teachers.  As  I  stated 
in  that  inaugural  lecture,  the  Council  of  the  College 
of  Preceptors,  after  waiting  in  vain  for  action  on 
the  part  of  the  Government,  or  of  the  Universities, 
and  attempting,  also  in  vain,  to  obtain  the  influen- 
tial co-operation  of  the  leading  scholastic  authori- 
ties in  aid  of  their  object,  resolved  to  make  a  be- 
ginning themselves.  They  therefore  adopted  a 
scheme  laid  before  them  by  one  of  their  colleagues 
— a  lady — and  offered  the  first  Professorship  of  the 
Science  and  Art  of  Education  to  me. 

We  felt  that  some  considerable  difficulties  lay  in 
the  way  of  any  attempt  to  realize  our  intentions. 
Among  these,  there  were  two  especially  on  which 
I  will  dwell  for  a  few  minutes.  The  first  was, 
the  opinion  very  generally  entertained  in  this  coun- 
7 


8  THE  SCIKJ^CE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

'tty,  mat  thdre'iB  no  Science  of  Education,  that  is, 
that  there  are  no  fixed  principles  for  the  guidance 
of  the  educator's  practice.  It  is  generally  admit- 
ted that  there  is  a  Science  of  Medicine,  of  Law,  of 
Theology  ;  but  it  is  not  generally  admitted  that 
there  is  a  corresponding  Science  of  Education.  The 
opinion  that  there  is  no  such  science  was,  as  we 
know,  courageously  uttered  by  Mr.  Lowe,  but  we 
also  know  that  there  are  hundreds  of  cultivated 
professional  men  in  England,  who  silently  maintain 
it  and  are  practically  guided  by  it.  These  men,  many 
of  them  distinguished  proficients  in  the  Art  of  teach- 
ing, if  you  venture  to  suggest  to  them  that  there  must 
be  a  correlated  Science  which  determines — whether 
they  are  conscious  of  it  or  not— the  laws  of  their 
practice,  generally  by  a  significant  smile  let  you 
know  their  opinion  both  of  the  subject  and  yourself. 
If  they  deign  to  open  their  lips  at  aU,  it  is  to  mut- 
ter about  "Pedagogy,"  "frothy  stuff,"  "mere 
quackery,"  or  to  tell  you  point-blank  that  if  there 
is  such  a  science,  it  is  no  business  of  theirs  :  they 
do  very  well  without  it.  This  opinion,  which  they, 
no  doubt,  sincerely  entertain,  is,  however,  simply 
the  product  of  thoughtlessness  on  their  part.  If 
they  had  carefuUy  considered  the  subject  in  rela- 
tion to  themselves — if  they  had  known  the  fact  that 
the  Science  which  they  disclaim  or  denounce  has 
long  engaged  the  attention  of  hundreds  of  the 
prof oundest  thinkers  of  Germany — ^many  of  them 
teachers  of  at  least  equal  standing  to  their  own — 
who  have  reverently  admitted  its  pretensions,  and 
devoted  their  great  powers  of  mind  to  the  investi- 
gation of  its  laws,  they  would,  at  least,  have  given 
you  a  respectful  hearing.    But  great,  as  we  know, 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDITOATION.  9 

is  the  power  of  ignorance,  and  it  will  prevail — for  a 
time.  There  are,  however,  even  now,  hopeful 
signs  which  indicate  a  change  of  public  opinion. 
Only  a  week  ago,  a  leader  in  the  Times  called  atten- 
tion to  Sir  Bartle  Frere's  conviction  expressed  in 
one  of  his  lectures  in  Scotland,  that  **  the  acknowl- 
edged strength  and  power  of  Germany  is  intimately 
connected  with  the  admirable  education  which  the 
great  body  of  the  German  nation  are  in  the  habit  of 
receiving."  The  education  of  which  Sir  Bartle 
Frere  thus  speaks,  is  the  direct  result  of  that  very 
science  which  is  so  generally  unknown,  and  des- 
pised, because  unknown,  by  our  cultivated  men, 
and  especially  by  many  of  our  most  eminent  teach- 
ers. When  this  educated  power  of  Germany, 
which  has  already  shaken  to  its  centre  the  boasted 
military  reputation  of  France,  does  the  same  for 
our  boasted  commercial  reputation,  as  Sii*  Bartle 
Frere  and  others  declare  that  it  is  even  now  doing, 
and  for  our  boasted  engineering  leputation,  as  Mr. 
Mundella  predicts  it  will  do,  unless  we  look  about 
us  in  time,  the  despisers  of  the  Science  of  Education 
will  adopt  a  different  tone,  and  perhaps  confess  them- 
selves in  error ;  at  all  events,  they  will  betake  them- 
selves to  a  modest  and  respectful  silence.  No  later 
back  than  yesterday  (January  19)  the  Times  con- 
tained three  letters  bearing  on  Sir  Bartle  Frere's  as- 
sertion that  the  increasing  coromercial  importance 
of  Germany  is  due  mainly  to  the  excellence  of  Ger- 
man education.  One  writer  refers  to  the  German 
Realschulen  or  Thing-Schools  and  to  the  High 
Schools  of  Commerce,  in  both  of  which  the  prac- 
tical study  of  matters  bearing  on  real  life  is  con- 
ducted.    Another  writer,  an  Ex-Chairman  of  the 


10  THE  SCIENCEI  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

Liverpool  Chamber  of  Conunerce,  says, — "I  have 
no  hesitation  in  stating  that  young  Germans  make 
the  best  business  men,  and  the  reason  is  that 
they  are  usually  better  educated  ;  I  mean  by  this, 
they  have  a  more  thorough  education,  which  im- 
parts to  them  accuracy  and  precision.  What- 
ever they  do,  is  well  and    accurately  done,    no 

detail  is  too  small  to  escape  their  attention,  and 
this  engenders  a  habit  ot  thought  and  mind,  which 
in  after  Hfe  makes  them  shrewd  and  thorough 
men  of  business.  I  think  the  maintenance  of 
our  commercial  superiority  is  very  much  of  a 
school-master's  question."  A  third  writer  speaks 
of  the  young  German  clerks  sent  out  to  the  East  as 

* 'infinitely  superior  "  in  education  to  the  class  of 
young  men  sent  out  from  England,  and  ends  by 
saying  :  **  Whatever  be  the  cause,  there  can  be  no 
question  that  the  Germans  are  outstripping  us  in 
the  race  for  commercial  superiority  in  the  far  East." 
Some  persons,  no  doubt,  will  be  found  to  cavil  at 
these  statements  ;  the  only  comment,  however,  I 
think  ifc  necessary  to  make  is  this — "Germany  is  a 
country  where  the  Science  of  Education  is  widely 
and  profoundly  studied,  and  where  the  Art  is  con- 
formed to  the  science."  I  leave  you  to  draw  your 
own  inferences.  Without,  however,  dwelling  fur- 
ther on  this  important  matter,  though  it  is  inti- 
mately connected  with  my  purpose,  I  repeat  that 
this  dead  weight  of  ignorance  in  the  pubUc  mind 
respecting  the  true  claims  of  the  Science  of  Educa- 
tion, constitutes  one  of  the  difficulties  with  which 
we  have  to  contend.  The  writer  of  a  leading  arti- 
cle in  the  Times,  January  10,  said  emphatically, 
*' In  truth,  there  is  nothing  in  which  the  mass  of 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  11 

Englishmen  are  so  much  in  need  of  Education  as  in 
appreciating  the  value  of  education  itself."  These 
words  contain  a  pregnant  and  melancholy  truth, 
which  will  be  more  and  more  acknowledged  as  time 
moves  on. 

But  there  was  another  difficulty  of  scarcely  less 
importance  with  which  we  had  to  contend,  and  this 
is  the  conviction  entertained  by  the  general  body  of 
teachers  that  they  have  nothing  to  learn  about  edu- 
cation. We  are  now  descending,  be  it  remembered, 
from  the  leaders  to  the  great  band  of  mere  follow- 
ers, from  the  officers  of  the  army  to  the  rank  and 
ffie.  My  own  experience,  it  may  well  be  believed, 
of  teachers,  has  been  considerable.  As  the  net  re- 
sult of  it,  I  can  confidently  affirm  that  until  I  com- 
menced my  class  in  February  last,  I  never  came  in 
contact  with  a  dozen  teachers  who  were  not  entire- 
ly satisfied  with  their  own  empirical  methods  of 
teaching.  To  what  others  had  written  on  the  prin- 
ciples of  Education, — to  what  these  had  reduced  to 
successful  practice, — they  were,  for  the  most  part, 
profoundly  indifferent.  To  move  onward  in  the 
grooves  to  which  they  had  been  accustomed  in  their 
school  days,  or  if  more  intelligent,  to  devise  meth- 
ods of  their  own,  without  any  respect  to  the  ex- 
perience, however  enlightened,  of  others,  was,  and 
is,  the  general  practice  among  teachers.  For  them, 
indeed,  the  great  educational  authorities,  whether 
writers  or  workers,  might  as  well  never  have  exist- 
ed at  all.  In  short,  to  repeat  what  I  said  before, 
teachers,  as  a  class  (there  are  many  notable  excep- 
tions), are  so  contented  with  themselves  and  their 
own  methods  of  teaching  that  they  complacently  be- 
lieve and  act  on  the  belief  that  they  have  nothing  at 


12  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

all  to  learn  from  the  Science  and  Art  of  Education  ; 
and  this  is  much  to  be  regretted  for  their  own  sakes, 
and  especially  for  the  sake  of  their  pupils,  whose 
educational  health  and  well-being  lie  in  their  hands. 
However  this  may  be,  the  fact  is  unquestionable, 
that  one  of  the  greatest  impediments  to  any  at- 
tempt to  expound  the  principles  of  Education  lies 
in  the  unwarrantable  assumption  on  the  part  of  the 
teachers  that  they  have  nothing  to  learn  on  the 
subject.  Here,  however,  as  is  often  the  case,  the 
real  need  for  a  remedy  is  in  inverse  proportion  to 
the  patient's  consciousness  of  the  need.  The  worst 
teachers  are  generally  those  who  are  most  satisfied 
with  themselves,  and  their  own  small  perform- 
ances. 

The  fallacy,  not  yet  displaced  from  the  mind  of 
the  public,  on  which  this  superstructure  of  conceit 
is  raised,  is  that  '*  he  who  knows  a  subject  can  teach 
it."  The  postulate,  that  a  teacher  should  thorough- 
ly know  the  subject  he  professes  to  teach,  is  by  no 
means  disputed,  but  it  is  contended  that  the  ques- 
tion at  issue  is  to  be  mainly  decided  by  considera- 
tions lying  on  the  pupil's  side  of  it.  The  process  of 
thinking,  by  which  the  pupil  learns,  is  essentially 
his  own.  The  teacher  can  but  stimulate  and  direct, 
he  cannot  supersede  it.  He  cannot  do  the  thinking 
necessary  to  gain  the  desired  result  for  his 
pupil.  The  problem,  then,  that  he  has  to  solve, 
is  how  to  get  his  pupil  to  learn  ;  and  it  is  evi- 
dent that  he  may  know  the  subject  without  know- 
ing the  best  means  of  making  his  pupil  know  it 
too,  which  is  the  assumed  end  of  all  his  teaching. 
He  may  be  an  adept  in  his  subject,  but  a  novice  in 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  13 

the  art  of  teaching  it— an  art  which  has  principles, 
laws,  and  processes  peculiar  to  itself. 

But,  again  ;  a  man,  profoundly  acquainted  with 
a  subject,  may  be  unapt  to  teach  it  by  reason  of  the 
very  height  and  extent  of  his  knowledge.  His  mind 
habitually  dwells  among  the  mountains,  and  he 
has,  therefore,  small  sympathy  with  the  toiling 
plodders  on  the  plains  below.  The  difficulties  which 
beset  their  path  have  long  ceased  to  be  a  part  of 
his  own  experience.  He  cannot  then  easily  conde- 
scend to  their  condition,  place  himself  alongside  of 
them,  and  force  a  sympathy  he  cannot  naturally 
feel  with  their  trials  and  perplexities.  Both  these 
cases  tend  to  the  same  issue,  and  show  that  it  is  a 
fallacy  to  assert  that  there  is  any  necessary  connec- 
tion between  knowing  a  subject  and  knowing  how 
to  teach  it. 

Our  experiment  was  commenced  on  the  6th  of 
February  last.  On  the  afternoon  of  that  day,  only 
seventeen  teachers  had  given  in  their  names  as 
members  of  the  class  that  was  to  be  formed.  In  the 
evening,  however,  to  my  surprise,  I  found  no  fewer 
than  fifty-one  awaiting  the  lecture.  This  number 
was  increased  in  a  few  weeks  to  seventy,  and  on 
the  whole,  there  have  been  eighty  members  in  the 
course  of  the  year.  Having  brought  our  Uttle  his- 
tory down  to  the  commencement  of  the  lectures  of 
1873,  I  propose  to  occupy  the  remainder  of  our  time 
with  a  brief  accoimt  of  what  was  intended,  and 
what  has  been  accomplished  by  them. 

Generally  speaking,  the  intention  was  to  show  (1) 
that  there  is  a  Science  of  Education,  that  is,  that 
there  are  principles  derived  from  the  nature  of  the 
mind   which     furnish    laws   for   the     educator's 


14  THE  SCIENCE  AND  AET  OF  EDUCATION. 

guidance  ;  (2)  that  there  is  an  Art  founded  on  the 
Science,  which  will  be  efficient  or  inefficient  in  pro- 
portion to  the  educator's  conscious  knowledge  of  its 
principles. 

It  will  be,  perhaps,  remembered  by  some  now 
present,  that  I  gave  in  my  Inaugural  Lecture  a  sketch 
of  the  manner  in  which  I  intended  to  treat  these 
subjects.  As,  however,  memories  are  often  weak, 
and  require  to  be  humored,  and  as  repetition  is  the 
teacher's  sheet-anchor,  I  may,  perhaps,  be  excused  if  I 
repeat  some  of  the  matter  then  brought  forward,  and 
more  especially  as  I  may  calculate  that  a  large  pro- 
portion of  my  audience  were  not  present  last  year. 

I  had  to  consider  how  I  should  treat  the  Science 
of  Education,  especially  in  relation  to  such  a  class 
as  I  was  likely  to  have.  It  was  to  be  expected  that 
the  class  would  consist  of  young  teachers  unskilled 
in  the  art  of  teaching,  and  perhaps  even  more  un- 
skilled in  that  of  thinking.  Such  in  fact  they,  for 
the  most  part,  proved  to  be.  Now  the  Science  of 
Education  is  a  branch  of  Psychology,  and  both  Edu- 
cation and  Psychology,  as  sciences,  may  be  studied 
either  deductively  or  inductively.  We  may  com- 
mence with  general  propositions,  and  work  down- 
ward to  the  facts  they  represent,  or^  upward  from 
the  facts  to  the  general  propositions.  To  students 
who  had  been  mainly  occupied  with  the  concrete 
and  practical,  it  seemed  to  me  much  better  to  com- 
mence with  the  concrete  and  practical ;  with  facts, 
rather  than  with  abstractions.  But  what  facts  ? 
That  was  the  question.  There  is  no  doubt  that  a 
given  art  contains  in  its  practice,  for  eyes  that  can 
truly  see,  the  principles  which  govern  its  action. 
The  reason  for  doing  may  be  gathered  from  the 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  15 

doing  itself.  If,  then,  we  could  be  quite  sure  be- 
forehand that  perfect  specimens  of  practical  teach- 
ing based  on  sound  principles,  were  accessible,  we 
might  have  set  about  studying  them  carefully,  with 
a  view  to  eHcit  the  principles  which  underlie  the 
practice,  and  in  this  way  we  might  have  arrived 
at  a  Science  of  Education.  But  then  this  involves 
the  whole  question — Who  is  to  guarantee  dogmati- 
cally the  absolute  soundness  of  a  given  method  of 
teaching,  and  if  any  one  comes  forward  to  do  this, 
who  is  to  guarantee  the  soundness  of  his  judg- 
ment ? 

It  appears,  then,  that  although  we  might  evolve 
the  principles  of  medicine  from  the  general  practice 
of  medicine,  or  the  principles  of  engineering  from 
the  general  practice  of  engineering,  we  cannot 
evolve  the  principles  of  education  from  the  general 
practice  of  education  as  we  actually  find  it.  So 
much  of  that  practice  is  radically  and  obviously 
unsound,  so  little  of  sequence  and  co-ordination  is 
there  in  its  parts,  so  aimless  generally  is  its  action, 
that  to  search  for  the  Science  of  Education  in  its  or- 
dinary present  practice  would  be  a  sheer  waste  of 
time.  We  should  find,  for  instance,  the  same  teach- 
er acting  one  day,  and  with  regard  to  one.  subject, 
on  one  principle,  and  another  day,  or  with  regard 
to  another  subject,  on  a  totally  different  principle, 
all  the  time  forgetting  that  the  mind  really  has  but 
one  method  of  learning  so  as  really  to  know, 
though  multitudes  of  methods  may  be  framed  for 
giving  the  semblance  of  knowing.  We  see  one 
teacher,  who  is  never  satisfied  until  he  secures  his 
pupils'  possession  of  clear  ideas  upon  a  given  sub- 
ject ;  another,  who  will  let  them  go  off  with  con- 


16  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

fused  and  imperfect  ideas  ;  and  a  third,  who  will 
think  his  duty  done  when  he  has  stuffed  them  with 
mere  words — with  husks  instead  of  grain.  It  is 
then  perfectly  clear  that  we  cannot  deduce  the 
principles  of  true  science  from  varying  practice  of 
this  kmd  ;  and  if  we  confine  ourselves  to  inferen- 
ces drawn  from  such  practice,  we  shall  never  know 
what  the  Science  of  Education  is.  Having  thus 
shut  ourselves  off  from  dealing  with  the  subject  by 
the  high  a  priori  method,  commencing  with  ab- 
stract principles,  and  also  from  the  unsatisfactory 
method  of  inference  founded  on  various,  but  gen- 
erally imperfect,  practice  ;  and  being  still  resolved, 
if  possible,  to  get  down  to  a  soHd  foundation  on 
which  we  might  build  a  fabric  of  science,  we  were 
led  to  inquire  whether  any  system  of  education  is 
to  be  found,  constant  and  consistent  in  its  working, 
by  the  study  of  which  we  might  reach  the  desired 
end.  On  looking  round  we  saw  that  there  is  such 
a  system  continually  at  work  under  our  very  eyes, 
— one  which  secures  definite  results,  in  the  shape 
of  positive  knowledge,  and  trains  to  habit  the  pow- 
ers by  which  these  results  are  gained,— which  can- 
not but  be  consistent  with  the  general  nature  of 
things,  because  it  is  Nature's  own.  Here,  then,  we 
have  what  we  are  seeking  for— a  system  working 
harmoniously  and  consistently  toward  a  definite 
end  and  securing  positive  results — a  system,  too, 
strictly  educational,  whether  we  regard  the  develop- 
ment of  the  faculties  employed,  or  the  acquisition 
of  knowledge,  as  accompanying  the  development — 
a  system  in  which  the  little  child  is  the  Pupil  and 
Nature  the  educator. 
Having  gained  this  stand-point,  and  with  it  a  con- 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  17 

viction  that  if  we  could  only  understand  this  great 
educator's  method  of  teaching,  and  see  the  true 
connection  between  the  means  he  employs  and  the 
end  he  attains,  we  should  get  a  correct  notion  of 
what  is  really  meant  by  education.  We  next  inquire, 
*'  how  are  we  to  proceed  for  this  purpose  ?'•  The  an- 
swer is,  by  the  method  through  which  other  truths 
are  ascertained— by  investigation.  We  must  do  what 
the  chemist,  the  physician,  the  astronomer  do, 
when  they  study  their  respective  subjects.  We 
must  examine  into  the  facts,  and  endeavor  to  ascer- 
tain, first,  what  they  are  ;  secondly,  what  they 
mean.  The  bodily  growth  of  the  child  from  birth 
is,  for  instance,  a  fact  which  we  can  all  observe  for 
ourselves.  What  does  it  mean  ?  It  means  that 
under  certain  external  influences — such  as  air,  light, 
food — the  child  increases  in  material  bulk  and  in 
physical  power  ;  that  these  influences  tend  to  inte- 
gration, to  the  forming  of  a  whole  ;  that  they  are 
all  necessary  for  that  purpose  ;  that  the  withhold- 
ing of  any  one  of  them  leads  to  disintegration  or 
the  breaking  up  of  the  whole. '  But  as  we  continue 
to  observe,  we  see,  moreover,  evidences  of  mental 
growth.  We  witness  the  birth  of  consciousness  ; 
we  see  the  mind  answering,  through  the  senses,  to 
the  call  of  the  external  world,  and  giving  manifest 
tokens  that  impressions  are  both  received  and  re- 
tained by  it.  The  child  ' '  takes  notice"  of  objects 
and  actions,  manifests  feelings  of  pleasure  or  pain 
in  connection  with  them,  and  indicates  a  desire  or 
will  to  deal  in  his  own  way  with  the  objects,  and 
to  take  part  in  the  actions.  We  see  that  tliis  growth 
of  intellectual  power,  shown  by  his  increasing  abil- 
ity to  hold  intercourse  with  things  about  him,   is 


18  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  .OP  EDUCATION. 

closely  connected  with  the  growth  of  his  bodily 
powers,  and  we  derive  from  our  observation  one 
important  principle  of  the  Science  of  Education, 
that  mind  and  body  are  mutually  interdependent, 
and  CO- operate  in  promoting  growht. 

We  next  observe  that  as  the  baby,  under  the 
combined  influences  of  air,  light,  and  food,  gains 
bodily  strength,  he  augments  that  strength  by  con- 
tinually exercising  it  ;  he  uses  the  fund  he  has  ob- 
tained, and  by  using  it  makes  it  more.  Exercise 
reiterated,  almost  unremitting  ;  unceasing  move- 
ment, apparently  for  its  own  sake,  as  an  end  in  it- 
self :  the  jerking  and  wriggling  in  the  mother's 
arms,  the  putting  forth  of  his  hands  to  grasp  things 
near  him,  the  turning  of  the  head  to  look  at  bright 
objects  ;  this  exercise,  these  movements,  constitute 
his  very  life.  He  lives  in  them,  and  by  them.  He 
is  urged  to  exercise  by  stimulants  from  without ; 
but  the  exercise  itself  brings  pleasure  with  it  (labor 
ipse  voluptas),  is  continued  on  that  account,  and 
ends  in  increase  of  power.  What  appUes  to  the 
body,  applies  also,  by  the  foregoing  principle,  to 
the  intellectual  powers,  which  grow  with  the  in- 
fant's growth,  and  strengthen  with  his  strength. 
Our  observation  of  these  facts  furnishes  us,  there- 
fore, with  a  second  principle  of  educa>tion— Faculty 
of  whatever  kind  grows  by  exercise.  Without  chang- 
ing our  ground  we  supplement  this  principle  by 
another.  We  see  that  the  great  educator  who 
prompts  the  baby  to  exercise,  and  connects  pleas- 
ure with  all  ,his  voluntary  movements,  makes  the 
exercise  effectual  for  the  purpose  in  view  by  con- 
stant reiteration.  Perfection  in  action  is  secured 
by  repeating  the  action  thousands  of   times.    The 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  19 

baby  makes  the  same  movements  over  and  over 
again ;  the  muscles  and  the  nerves  learn  to  work  to- 
gether, and  habit  is  the  result.  Similarily  in  the 
case  of  the  mind,  the  impressions  communicated 
through  the  organs  of  sense  grow  from  cloudy  to 
clear,  from  obscure  to  definite,  by  dint  of  endless 
repetition  of  the  functional  act.  By  the  observa- 
tion of  these  facts  we  arrive  at  a  third  principle  of 
education  : — Exercise  involves  repetition^  which,  as 
regards  bodily  actions,  ends  in  habits  of  action,  and 
as  regards  impressions  received  by  the  mind,  ends 
in  clearness  of  perception. 

Looking  still  at  our  baby  as  he  pursues  his  educa- 
tion, we  see  that  this  manifold  exercise  is  only  ap- 
parently an  end  in  itself.  This  true  purpose  of  the 
teaching  is  to  stimulate  the  pupil  to  the  acquisition- 
of  knowledge,  and  to  make  all  these  varied  move- 
ments subservient  to  that  end.  This  exercise  of 
faculty  brings  the  child  into  contact  with  the  prop- 
erties of  matter,  initiates  him  into  the  mysteries  of 
hard  and  soft,  heavy  and  light,  etc. ,  the  varieties 
of  form,  of  round  and  flat,  circular  and  angular, 
etc. ,  the  attractive  charms  of  color. 

All  this  is  knowledge,  gained  by  reiterated  exer- 
cise of  the  faculties,  and  stored  up  in  the  mind  by 
its  retentive  power.  We  recognize  the  baby  as  a 
practical  inquirer  after  knowledge  for  its  own  sake. 
But  we  further  see  him  as  a  discoverer,  testing  the 
properties  of  matter  by  making  his  own  experiments 
upon  it.  He  knocks  the  spoon  against  the  basin 
which  contains  his  food;  he  is  pleased  with  the 
sound  produced  by  his  action,  and  more  than  pleas- 
ed, dehghted,  if  the  basin  breaks  under  the  opera- 
tion.    He  throws  his  ball  on  the  ground,  and  follows 


20  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

its  revolution  with  his  enraptured  eye.  What  a 
wonderful  experiment  it  is  !  How  charmed  he  is 
with  the  effect  he  has  produced !  He  repeats  the  ex- 
periment over  and  over  again  with  unwearied  as- 
siduity. The  child  is  surely  a  Newton,  or  a  Fara- 
day in  petticoats.  No,  he  is  simply  one  of  nature's 
ordinary  pupils,  inquiring  after  knowledge,  and 
gaining  it  by  his  own  unaided  powers.  He  is  teach- 
ing himself,  under  the  guidance  of  a  great  educator. 
His  self -teaching  ends  in  development  and  growth, 
and  it  is  therefore  strictly  educational  in  its  nature. 
In  view  of  these  facts  we  gain  a  fourth  principle  of 
the  Science  of  Education.  The  exercise  of  the  child's 
own  powers,  stimulated  hut  not  superseded  by  the 
educator  s  interference,  ends  both  in  the  acquisition 
of  knowledge  and  in  the  invigoration  of  the  powers 
for  further  acquisition. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  give  further  illustrations  of 
method.  Every  one  will  see  that  it  consists  essen- 
tially in  the  observation  and  investigation  of  facts, 
the  most  important  of  which  is  that  we  have  before 
us  a  pupil  going  through  a  definite  system  of  edu- 
cation. We  are  convinced  that  it  is  education,  be- 
cause it  develops  faculty,  and  therefore  conduces 
to  development  and  growth.  By  close  observation 
we  detect  the  method  of  the  master,  and  see  that  it 
is  a  method  which  repudiates  cramming,  rules  and 
definitions,  and  giving  wordy  explanations,  and  se- 
cures the  pupil's  utmost  benefit  from  the  work  by 
making  him  do  it  all  himself  through  the  exercise 
of  his  unaided  powers.  We  thus  get  a  clue  to  the 
construction  of  a  Science  of  Education,  to  be  built 
up,  as  it  were,  on  the  organized  compound  of  body 
and  mind,  to  which  we  give  the  name  of  baby. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  21 

Continuing  still  our  observation  of  the  phenomena 
it  manifests,  first,  in  its  speechless,  and  afterwards 
in  its  speaking  condition,  we  gain  other  principles 
of  education ;  and  lastly,  colhgating  and  general- 
izing our  generalizations,  we  arrive  at  a  definition 
of  education  as  carried  on  by  Nature.  This  may 
be  roughly  expressed  thus  : — Natural  education 
consists  in  the  development  and  training  of 
the  learner^s  powers^  through  influences  of  vari- 
ous kinds,  which  are  initiated  by  action  from  with- 
out, met  by  corresponding  action  from  within. 

Then  assuming,  as  we  appear  to  have  a  right  to 
do,  that  this  natural  education  should  be  the 
model  or  type  of  formal  education,  we  somewhat 
modify  our  definition  thus — 

Education  is  the  development  and  training  of  the 
learner^ s  native  powers  by  means  of  instruction  car- 
ried on  through  the  conscious  and  persistent  agency 
of  the  formal  educator,  and  depends  upon  the  es- 
tablished connection  between  the  world  without  and 
the  world  within  the  mind — between  the  objective 
and  the  subjective. 

I  am  aware  that  this  definition  is  defective,  inas- 
much as  it  ignores— or  appears  to  ignore — the  vast 
fields  of  physical  and  moral  education.  It  will, 
however,  serve  my  present  purpose,  which  is  espe- 
cially connected  with  intellectual  education. 

Having  reached  this  point,  and  gained  a  general 
notion  of  a  Science  of  Education,  we  go  on  to  con- 
sider the  Art  of  Education  or  the  practical  appli- 
cation of  the  Science.  We  are  thus  led  to  examine 
the  difference  between  Science  and  Art,  and  be- 
tween Nature  and  Art.  Science  tells  us  what  a 
thing  is,  and  why  it  is  what  it  is.      It  deals  there- 


22  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

fore  with  the  nature  of  the  thing,  with  its  relations 
to  other  things,  and  consequently  with  the  laws  of 
its  being.  Art  derives  its  rules  from  this  knowl- 
edge of  the  thing  and  its  laws  of  action,  and  says, 
"  Do  this  or  that  with  the  thing  in  order  to  accom- 
plish the  end  you  have  in  view.  If  you  act  other- 
wise with  it,  you  violate  the  laws  of  its  being." 
Now  the  rules  of  Art  may  be  carried  out  blindly 
or  intelligently.  If  blindly,  the  worker  is  a  mere 
artisan — an  operative  who  follows  routine,  whose 
rule  is  the  rule-of -thumb.  If  intelligently,  he  is  a 
true  artist,  who  not  only  knows  what  he  is  doing, 
but  why  this  process  is  right,  and  that  wrong,  and 
who  is  furnished  with  resources  suitable  for  guid- 
ing normal,  and  correcting  abnormal  action.  All 
the  operations  of  the  true  artist  can  be  justified  by 
reference  to  the  principles  of  Science.  But  there  is 
a  correlation  between  Nature  and  Art.  These  terms 
are  apparently,  but  not  really,  opposed  to  each 
other.  Bacon  long  ago  pointed  out  the  true  dis- 
tinction when  he  said,  Ars  est  Homo  additus  Na- 
turce— Art  is  Nature  with  the  addition  of  Man — Art 
is  Man' s  word  added  to  (not  put  in  the  place  of) 
Nature's  work.  Here  then  is  the  synthesis  of  Na- 
ture and  Man  which  justifies  us  in  saying  that 
natural  education  is  the  type  or  model  of  formal,  or 
what  we  usually  call,  without  an  epithet,  educa- 
tion, and  that  the  Art  of  Teaching  is  the  applica- 
tion by  the  teacher  of  laws  of  Science,  which  he  has 
himself  discovered  by  investigating  Nature.  This 
is  the  key-stone  of  our  position ;  if  this  is  firm  and 
strong,  all  is  firm  and  strong.  Abandon  this  posi- 
tion and  you  walk  in  darkness  and  doubt,  not  know- 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  23 

ing  what  you  are  doing  or  whither  you  are  wander- 
ing— at  the  mercy  of  every  wind  of  doctrine. 

The  artist  in  education  thus  equipped,  is  ready 
not  only  to  work  himself,  but  to  judge  of  the  work 
of  others.  He  sees,  for  instance,  a  teacher  coldly 
or  sternly  demanding  the  attention  of  a  little  child 
to  some  lesson,  say  in  arithmetic.  The  child  has 
never  been  led  up  gi-adually  to  the  point  at  which 
he  is.  He  has  none  but  confused  notions  about  it. 
The  teacher,  without  any  attempt  to  interest  the 
child,  without  exhibiting  affection  or  sympathy  to- 
wards him,  hastily  gives  him  some  technical  direc- 
tions, and  sends  him  away  to  profit  by  them  as  he 
may — simply  ''orders him  to  learn, "and leaves  him 
to  do  so  alone.  Our  teacher  says,— "  This  transac- 
tion is  inartistic.  The  element  of  humanity  is  al- 
together wanting  in  it.  It  is  not  in  accordance 
with  the  Science  of  Education ;  it  is  a  violation  of 
the  Art.  The  great  educator,  in  his  teaching,  pre- 
sents a  motive  and  an  object  for  voluntary  action ; 
and  therefore  excites  attention  towards  the  object 
by  enhsting  the  feelings  in  the  inquiry.  He  does 
not,  it  is  true,  show  sympathy,  because  he  acts  by  in- 
flexible rules.  But  the  human  educator,  as  an  artist, 
is  bound  not  only  to  excite  an  interest  in  the  work, 
but  to  sympathize  with  the  worker.  This  teacher 
does  neither.  His  practice  ought  to  exemplify  the 
formula,  Ars^Natura + Homo.  He  leaves  out  both 
Natura    and   Homo.      His  Ars    therefore==0." 

Another  case  presents  itself.  Here  the  teacher 
does  not  leave  the  child  alone ;  on  the  contrary,  is 
continually  by  his  side.  At  this  moment  he  is 
copiously  "  imparting  his  knowledge"  of  some  sub- 
ject to  his  pupil,  whose  aspect  shows  that  he  is 


24  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

not  receiving  it,  and  who  therefore  looks  puzzled. 
The  matter,  whatever  it  is,  has  evidently  little  or 
no  relation  to  the  actual  condition  of  the  child's 
mind,  in  which  it  finds  no  links  of  association  and 
produces  no  intellectual  reaction,  and  which  there- 
fore does  not  co-operate  with  the  teacher's.  He 
patiently  endures,  however,  because  he  cannot  es- 
cape from  it,  the  downpouring  of  the  teacher's 
knowledge ;  but  it  is  obvious  that  he  gains  nothing 
from  it.  It  passes  over  his  mind  as  water  passes 
over  a  duck's  back.  The  subject  of  instruction, 
before  unknown,  remains  unknown  still.  Our  ar- 
tist teacher,  looking  on,  pronounces  that  this  teach- 
ing is  inartistic,  as  not  being  founded  on  Science. 
*'The  efficiency  of  a  lesson  is  to  be  proved,"  he  says, 
^'bythe  part  taken  in  it  by  the  pupil;  and  here 
the  teacher  does  all  the  work,  the  pupil  does 
nothing  at  all.  It  is  the  teacher's  mind,  not  the 
learner's  that  is  engaged  in  it.  Our  great  master 
teaches  by  calling  into  exercise  the  learner^s  pow- 
ers, not  by  making  a  display  of  his  own.  The 
child  will  never  learn  anything  so  as  to  possess  it 
for  himself  by  such  teaching  as  this,  which  ac- 
counts the  exercise  of  his  own  faculties  as  having 
little  or  nothing  to  do  with  the  process  of  learn- 
ing." 

Once  more,  our  student,  informed  in  the  Science 
of  Education,  watches  a  teacher  who  is  giving  a 
lesson  on  language — say,  on  the  mother  tongue. 
This  mother  tongue  the  child  virtually  knows  how 
to  use  already :  and  if  he  has  been  accustomed  to 
educated  society,  speaks  and  (if  he  is  old  enough  to 
write)  writes  it  correctly.  The  teacher  puts  a  book 
into  his  hand,  the  first  sentence  of  which  is,  '*  Eng- 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  25 

lish  grammar  is  the  art  of  speaking  and  writing  the 
English  language  correctly."  The  child  does  not 
know  what  an  **  art"  is,  nor  what  is  meant  by- 
speaking  EngHsh  ^'  correctly."  If  he  is  intelligent 
he  wonders  whether  he  speaks  it  '*  correctly"  or 
not.  As  to  the  meaning  of  ''  art,"  he  is  altogether 
at  sea.  The  teacher  is  aware  of  the  perplexity,  and 
desiring  to  make  him  really  understand  the  mean- 
ing of  the  word,  attempts  an  explanation.  **An 
art,"  he  says,  (getting  the  definition  from  the  dic- 
tionary), "  is  a  power  of  doing  something  not 
taught  by  Nature."  The  child  stares  with  aston- 
ishment, as  if  you  were  talking  Greek  or  Arabic. 
What  can  be  meant  by  a  * '  power" — ' '  what  by  being 
taught  by  Nature  ?"  The  teacher  sees  that  his  ex- 
planation has  only  made  what  was  dark  before 
darker  still.  He  attempts  to  explain  his  explana- 
tion, and  the  fog  grows  thicker  and  thicker.  At 
last  he  gives  it  up,  pronounces  the  child  stupid,  and 
ends  by  teUing  the  child  to  learn  by  rote— that  is 
by  hurdy-gurdy  grind — ^the  unintelligible  words. 
That  at  least  the  child  can  do  (a  parrot  could  be 
taught  to  do  the  same) , and  he  does  it ;  but  his  mind 
has  received  no  instruction  whatever  from  the  les- 
son—the intelligence  which  distinguishes  the  child 
from  the  parrot  remains  entirely  uncultivated. 

Our  teacher  proceeds  to  criticise.  '*  This  is,"  he 
says,  ''  altogether  inartistic  teaching.  Our  great 
master  does  not  begin  with  definitions— and  indeed 
gives  no  definitions — ^because  they  are  unsuited  to 
his  pupil's  state  of  mind.  He  begins  with  facts 
which  the  child  can  understand,  because  he  observes 
them  himself.  This  teacher  should  have  begun 
with  facts.    The  first  lesson  in  Grammar  (if  indeed 


2Q  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

it  is  necessary  to  teach  Grrammar  at  all  to  a  little 
child)  should  be  a  lesson  on  the  nam^  of  the  ob- 
jects which  the  child  sees  and  handles,  and  knows 
by  seeing  and  handling — that  is,  has  ideas  of  them 
in  his  mind.  ' '  What  is  the  name  of  this  thing  and 
of  that  ?"  he  inquires,  and  the  child  tells  him.  The 
ideas  of  the  things,  and  the  names  by  which  they 
are  known,  are.already  associated  together  in  his 
consciousness,  and  he  has  already  to  learned  trans- 
late things  into  words.  The  teacher  may  tell  him 
(for  he  could  not  discover  it  for  himself)  that  a 
name  may  also  be  called  a  noun,  **What  then," 
the  teacher  may  say,  "is  a  noun  ?"  The  child  re- 
plies, '^A  noun  is  a  name  of  a  thiTigy  He  has  con- 
structed a  definition  himself —a  very  simple  one 
certainly — ^but  then  it  it  is  a  definition  which  he 
thoroughly  understands  because  it  is  his  own 
work.  This  mode  of  proceeding  would  be  artistic, 
because  in  accordance  with  Nature.  There  would 
be  no  need  to  commit  the  definition  to  memory,  as 
a  mere  collection  of  words,  because  what  it  means 
is  already  committed  to  the  understanding  which 
will  retain  it,  because  it  represents  facts  already 
known  and  appreciated.  Thoroughly  Tcnoiving 
things  is  the  surest  way  to  remember  theui." 

In  some  such  way  as  this  our  expert  brings  the 
processes  commonly  called  teaching  to  the  touch- 
stone of  his  Science,  the  Science  which  he  has  built 
up  on  his  observation  of  the  processes  of  Nature. 

1  am  afraid  that,  in  spite  of  illustrations,  I  may 
still  have  failed  to  impress  you  as  strongly  as  I 
wish  to  do  with  the  cardinal  truth,  that  you  can- 
not get  the  best  results  of  teaching  unless  you  un- 
derstand the  mind  with  which  you  have  to  deal. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  27 

There  are,  indeed,  teachers  endowed  with  the  pow- 
er of  sympathizing  so  earnestly  with  children, 
that  in  their  case  this  sympathy  does  the  work  of 
knowledge,  or  rather  it  is  knowledge  miconsciously 
exercising  the  power  proverbially  attributed  to  it. 
The  intense  interest  they  feel  in  their  work  almost 
instinctively  leads  them  to  adopt  the  right  way  of 
doing  it.  They  are  artists  without  knowing  that 
they  are  artists.  But,  speaking  generally,  it  will 
be  found  that  the  only  truly  efficient  director  of 
intellectual  action  is  one  who  understands  intellec- 
tual action — ^that  is,  who  understands  the  true 
nature  of  the  mind  which  he  is  directing.  It  is  this 
demand  which  we  make  on  the  teacher  that  consti- 
tutes teaching  as  a  psychological  art,  and  which 
renders  the  conviction  inevitable  that  an  immense 
niunber  of  those  who  practice  it  do  so  without  pos- 
sessing the  requisite  qualifications.  They  under- 
take to  guide  a  machine  of  exquisite  capabilities, 
and  of  the  most  dehcate  construction,  without  un- 
derstanding its  construction  or  the  range  of  its 
capabihties,  and  especially  without  understanding 
the  fundamental  principles  of  the  science  of  me- 
chanics. Hence  the  teUing,  cramming,  the  endless 
explaining,  the  rote  learning,  which  enfeeble  and 
deaden  the  native  powers  of  the  child;  and  hence, 
as  the  final  consequence,  the  melancholy  results  of 
instruction  in  our  primary  schools,  and  the  scarce- 
ly less  melancholy  results  in  schools  of  higher  aims 
and  pretensions,  all  of  which  are  the  legitimate 
fruit  of  the  one  fundamental  error  which  I  have 
over  and  over  again  pointed  out. 
In  accordance  with  these  views,  it  has  been  in- 


28  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

sisted  on  throughout  the  entire  Course  of  Lectures, 
that  teaching,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  term,  has 
nothing  in  common  with  the  system  of  telling, 
cramming,  and  drilHng,  which  very  generally 
usurps  its  name.  The  teacher,  properly  so  called, 
IS  a  man  who,  besides  knowing  the  subject  he  has 
to  teach,  knows  moreover  the  nature  of  the  mind 
which  he  has  to  direct  in  its  acquisition  of  knowl- 
edge, and  the  best  methods  by  which  this  may  be 
accompHshed.  He  must  know  the  subject  of  in- 
struction thoroughly,  because,  although  it  is  not 
he  bub  the  child  who  is  to  learn,  his  knowledge  will 
enable  him  to  suggest  points  to  which  the  learner's 
attention  is  to  be  directed ;  and  besides,  as  his  prop- 
er function  is  to  act  as  a  guide,  it  is  important 
that  he  should  have  previously  taken  the  journey 
himself.  But  we  discountenance  the  notion  usual- 
ly entertained  that  the  teacher  is  to  know  because 
he  has  to  communicate  his  knowledge  to  the  learner; 
and  maintain,  on  the  contrary,  that  his  proper  func- 
tions as  a  teacher  does  not  consist  in  the  communi- 
cation of  his  own  knowledge  to  the  learner,  but 
rather  in  such  action  as  ends  in  the  learner's  acqui- 
sition of  knowledge  for  himself.  To  deny  this  prin- 
ciple is  to  give  a  direct  sanction  to  telling  and 
cramming,  which  are  forbidden  by  the  laws  of  edu- 
cation. To  tell  the  child  what  he  can  learn  for 
himself,  is  to  neutralize  his  efforts;  consequently  to 
enfeeble  his  powers,  to  quench  his  interest  in  the 
subject,  probably  to  create  a  distaste  for  it,  to  pre- 
vent him  from  learning  how  to  learn — to  defeat,  in 
short,  all  the  ends  of  true  education.  On  the  other 
hand,  to  get .  him  to  gain  knoi'dedge  for  himself 
stimulates  his  efforts,  strengthens  his  powers,  quick- 
ens his  interest  in  the  subject  and  makes  him  take 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  29 

pleasure  in  learning  it,  teaches  him  how  to  learn 
other  subjects,  leads  to  the  formation  of  habits  of 
thinking;  and,  in  short,  promotes  all  the  ends  of 
education.  The  obvious  objection  to  this  view  of 
the  case  is,  that  as  there  are  many  things  which 
the  child  cannot  learn  by  himself,  we  must  of  course 
tell  him  them.  My  answer  is,  that  the  things 
which  he  cannot  learn  of  himself  are  things  unsuited 
to  the  actual  state  of  his  mind.  His  mind  is  not 
yet  prepared  for  them ;  and  by  forcing  them  upon 
him  prematurely,  you  are  injuriously  anticipating 
the  natural  course  of  things.  You  are  cramming 
him  with  that  which,  although  it  may  be  knowledge 
to  you,  cannot  possibly  be  knowledge  to  him. 
Knowing,  in  relation  to  the  training  of  the  mind,  is 
the  result  of  learning ;  and  learning  is  the  process 
by  which  the  child  teaches  himself ;  and  he  teaches 
himself — he  can  only  teach  himself — by  personal 
experience.  Take,  for  instance,  a  portion  of  matter 
which,  for  some  cause  or  other,  interests  him.  He 
exercises  his  senses  upon  it,  looks  at  it,  handles  it, 
etc.,  throws  it  on  the  ground,  flings  it  up  into  the 
air;  and  while  doing  all  this,  compares  it  with 
other  things,  gains  notions  of  its  color,  form,  hard- 
ness, weight,  etc.  The  result  is,  that  without  any 
direct  teaching  from  you,  without  any  telling^  he 
knows  it  through  his  personal  experience — he 
knows  it,  as  we  say,  of  his  own  knowledge ;  and 
has  not  only  learned  by  himself  something  that  he 
did  not  know  before,  but  has  been  learning  how  to 
learn.  But  supposing  that  you  are  not  satisfied 
with  his  proceeding  thus  naturally  and  surely  in 
the  career  of  self -acquisition,  and  you  tell  him  some- 


30  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

thing  which  he  could  not  possibly  learn  by  this 
method  of  his  own.  Let  it  be,  for  instance,  the  dis- 
tance of  the  sun  from  the  earth,  the  superficial  area 
of  Sweden,  etc.  When  you  have  told  him  that  the 
sun  is  95  millions  of  miles  from  the  earth,  that  the 
area  of  Sweden  is  so  many  square  miles,  you  have 
evidently  transcended  his  personal  experience. 
What  you  have  told  him,  instead  of  being  knowl- 
edge gained,  as  in  the  other  case,  at  first  hand,  is 
information  obtained  probably  at  tenth  or  even 
fiftieth  hand,  even  by  yourself,  and  is  therefore  in 
in  no  true  sense  of  the  word  ' '  knowledge"  even  to 
you,  much  less  is  it  knowledge  to  him ;  and  in  tell- 
ing it  to  him  prematurely  you  are  cramming  and  not 
teaching  him.  Dr.  John  Brown  ("Horse  Subsecivase?" 
Second  series,  p.  473)  well  says,— "The  great  thing 
with  knowledge  and  the  young  is  to  so  secure  that 
it  shall  be  their  own ;  that  it  be  not  merely  external 
to  their  inner  and  real  self,  but  shall  go  in  succum 
et  sanguinem;  and  therefore  it  is  that  the  self- 
teaching  that  a  baby  and  a  child  give  themselves  re- 
mains with  them  forever.  It  is  of  their  essence, 
whereas  what  is  given  them  ab  extra^  especially  if  it 
be  received  mechanically,  without  rehsh,  and  with- 
out any  energizing  of  the  entire  nature,  remains 
pitifully  useless  and  wersh  (insipid).  Try,  there- 
fore, always  to  get  the  resident  teacher  inside  the 
skin,  and  who  is  forever  giving  his  lessons,  to  help 
you,  and  be  on  your  side."  You  easily  see  from 
these  remarks  of  Dr.  Brown's  that  he  means  what 
I  mean ; — that  matters  of  information  obtained  by 
other  people's  research,  and  which  is  true  knowl- 
edge to  those  who  have  lawfully  gained  it,  is  not 
knowledge  to  a  child  who  has  had  no  share  in  the 
acquisition,   and  your  dogmatic  imposition  of   it 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  31 

upon  his  mind,  or  rather  memory  only,  is  of  the 
essence  of  cramming.  Such  information  is  merely 
patchwork  laid  over  the  substance  of  the  cloth  as 
compared  with  the  texture  of  the  cloth  itself.  It  is 
oriy  but  not  of,  the  fabric.  This  expansive  and  com- 
prehensive principle — which  regards  all  learning  by 
mere  rote,  even  of  such  matters  as  the  multiplication- 
table  or  Latin  declensions— before  the  child's  mind 
has  had  some  preliminary  dealing  with  the  facts  of 
Number  or  of  Latin— as  essentially  cramming,  and 
theref  oi^e  anti-educational  in  its  nature — will  be,  of 
course,  received  or  rejected  by  teachers,  just  in 
proportion  as  they  receive  or  reject  the  conception 
of  an  art  of  teaching  founded  on  psychological 
principles. 

And  this  brings  me  to  the  next  point  for  special 
consideration.  I  said  that  the  teacher  who  is  to 
direct  intellectual  operations  should  understand 
what  they  are.  He  should,  especially  as  a  teacher 
of  little  children,  examine  well  the  method,  already 
referred  to,  by  which  they  gain  all  their  elemen- 
tary knowledge  by  themselves,  by  the  exercise  of 
their  own  powers.  He  should  study  children  in 
the  concrete, — take  note  of  the  causes  which  oper- 
ate on  the  will,  which  enlist  the  feehngs,  which 
call  forth  the  intellect,  —in  order  that  he  may  use  his 
knowledge  with  the  best  effect  when  he  takes  the 
place  of  the  great  natural  educator.  To  change 
slightly  Locke's  words,  he  is  to  "  consider  the  opera- 
tion of  the  discerning  faculties  of  a  child  as  they 
are  employed  about  the  objects  which  they  have  to 
do  with  ;"  and  this  because  it  is  his  proper  func- 
tion as  a  teacher  to  guide  this  operation.  And  if  he 
wishes  to  be  an  accomplished  teacher-  a  master  of 


32  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

his  art— he  should  further  study  the  principles  of 
Psychology,  the  true  groundwork  of  his  action,  in 
in  the  writings  of  Locke,  Dugald  Stewart,  Bain, 
Mill,  and  others,  who  show  us  what  these  princi- 
ples are.  This  study  will  give  a  scientific  compact- 
ness and  co-ordination  to  the  facts  which  he  has 
learned  by  his  own  method  of  investigation. 

But  it  may  be  said.  Do  you  demand  all  this  pre- 
paration for  the  equipment  of  a  mere  elementary 
teacher  ?  My  reply  is,  I  require  it  because  he  is  an 
elementary  teacher.  Whatever  may  be  done  in 
the  case  of  those  children  who  are  somewhat  ad- 
vanced in  their  career,  and  who  have,  to  some  ex- 
tent at  least,  learnt  how  to  learn,  it  is  most  of  all 
important  that  in  the  beginning  of  instruction,  and 
with  a  view  to  gain  the  most  fruitful  results  from 
that  instruction,  the  earliest  teacher  should  be  an 
adept  in  the  Science  and  Art  of  Education.  We 
should  do  as  the  Jesuits  did  in  their  famous  schools, 
who,  when  they  found  a  teacher  showing  real  skill 
and  knowledge  in  teaching  the  higher  classes,  pro- 
moted  him  to  the  charge  of  the  lowest.  There  was 
a  wise  insight  into  human  nature  in  this.  Whe- 
ther the  child  shall  love  or  hate  knowledge, — whe- 
ther his  fundamental  notions  of  things  shall  be 
clear  or  cloudy, — whether  he  shall  advance  in  his 
course  as  an  intelligent  being,  or  as  a  mere  machine, 
— whether  he  shall,  at  last,  leave  school  stuffed 
with  ciTide,  undigested  gobbets  of  knowledge,  or 
possessed  of  knowledge  assimilated  by  his  own  di- 
gestion, and  therefore  a  source  of  mental  health 
and  strength, — whether  he  shall  be  lean,  atrophied, 
weak,  destitute  of  the  power  of  self-government 
and  self -direction,  or  strong,  robust,  and  independ- 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  33 

ent  in  thought  and  action,— depends  almost  alto- 
gether on  the  manner  in  which  his  earliest  instruc- 
tion is  conducted,  and  this  again  on  the  teacher's 
acquaintance  with  the  Science  and  Art  of  Educa- 
tion. 

But  besides  knowing  the  subject  of  instruction, 
and  knowing  the  Art  of  Education  founded  on  the 
Science,  the  accomphshed  teacher  should  also  know 
the  methods  of  teaching  devised  or  adopted  by  the 
most  eminent  practitioners  of  his  art.  A  teacher, 
even  when  equipped  in  the  manner  I  have  suggest- 
ed, cannot  safely  dispense  with  the  experience  of 
others.  In  applying  principles  to  practice  there  is 
always  a  better  or  worse  manner  of  doing  so,  and 
one  may  learn  much  from  knowing  how  others 
have  overcome  the  difficultiies  at  which  we  stumble. 

Many  a  teacher,  when  doubtful  of  the  principles 
which  constitute  his  usual  rule  of  action,  will  gain 
confidence  and  strength  by  seeing  their  operation 
in  the  practice  of  others,  or  may  be  reminded  of 
them  when  he  has  for  the  moment  lost  sight  of 
them.  Is  it  nothing  to  a  teacher  that  Plato,  Aris- 
totle, Plutarch,  QuintilHan,  in  ancient  times;  As- 
cham,  Eousseau,  Comenius,  Sturm,  Pestalozzi,  Ea- 
tich,  Jacotot,  Frcebel,  Eichter,  Herbart,  Beneke, 
Disterweg,  Arnold,  Spencer,  and  a  host  of  others  in 
modem  times,  have  written  and  worked  to  show 
him  what  education  is  both  in  theory  and  practice? 
Does  he  evince  anything  but  his  own  ignorance  by 
pretending  to  despise  or  ignore  their  labors  ?  What 
would  be  said  of  a  medical  practitioner  who  knows 
nothing  of  the  works  or  even  the  names  of  Celsus, 
Galen,  Harvey,  John  Hunter,  Sydenham,  Bell,  etc., 
and  who  sets  up  his  empirical  practice  against  the 


34  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

vast  weight  of  their  authority  and  experience  ?  I 
need  not  insist  on  this  argument  ;  it  is  too  obvious. 
Much  time,  therefore,  has  been  devoted,  during  the 
year  to  the  History  of  Education  in  various  contries 
and  ages,  and  to  the  special  work  of  some  of  the 
great  educational  reformers.  In  particular,  the 
methods  of  Ascham,  Eatich,  Comenius,  Pestalozzi, 
Jacotot,  and  Froebel  have  been  minutely  describ- 
ed and  criticised. 

And  now  it  is  only  right  to  endeavor,  in  conclu- 
sion, to  answer  the  question  which  may  be  fairly 
asked,  *'  After  all,  what  have  you  really  accom- 
plished by  this  elaborate  exposition  of  principles 
and  methods  ?  You  have  had  no  training  schools 
for  the  practice  of  your  students ;  it  has  all  ended  in 
talk."  In  reply  to  this  inquiry  or  objection,  I  have 
a  few  words  to  say.  The  students  whom  I  have 
been  instructing  are  for  the  most  part  teachers 
already,  who  are  practising  their  art  every  day. 
My  object  has  been  so  forcibly  to  stamp  upon 
their  minds  a  few  great  principles,  so  strongly 
to  impress  them  with  convictions  of  the  truth 
of  these  principles,  that  it  should  be  impossi- 
ble, in  the  nature  of  things,  for  them  as  my  disci- 
ples, to  act  in  contradiction  or  violation  of  them. 
Whenever,  in  their  practice,  they  are  tempted  tore- 
sort  to  drill  and  cram,  I  know,  without  being  there 
to  see  ,that  the  principles  which  have  become  a  part 
of  their  being,  because  founded  on  the  truths  of  na- 
ture recognized  by  themselves,  rise  up  before  them 
and  forbid  the  intended  delinquency.  In  this  way, 
without  the  apparatus  of  a  training  school,  the 
work  of  a  training  school  is  done. 

But,  in  order  to  show  that  I  am  not  talking  at 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  35 

random,  I  will  quote  a  few  passages  from  exercises 
written  by  the  students  themselves,  relative  to 
their  own  experience, 

*' Before  attending  these  Lectures,  my  aim  was 
that  my  pupils  should  gain  a  certain  amoimt  of 
knowledge.  I  now  see  how  far  more  important  is 
the  exercise  of  those  powers  by  which  knowledge 
is  gained.  I  am  therefore  trying  to  make  them 
think  for  themselves.  This,  and  the  principle  of 
repetition,  which  has  been  so  much  insisted  upon, 
prevents  us  from  getting  over  as  much  ground  as 
formerly,  but  I  feel  that  the  work  done  is  much 
more  satisfactory  than  it  used  to  be.  I  now  try  to 
adapt  my  plan  to  the  pupil,  not  the  pupil  to  my 
plan.  I  used  to  prepare  a  lesson  (say  in  history) 
with  great  care  ;  all  the  information  which  I  thus 
laboriously  gained,  I  imparted  to  my  pupils  in  a 
few  minutes.  I  now  see  that,  though  I  was  bene- 
fitted by  the  process,  my  pupils  could  have  gained 
but  little  good  from  it.  The  fact  of  having  a  defi- 
nite end  in  view  gives  me  confidence  in  my  prac- 
tice. The  effect  of  these  Lectures,  as  a  whole,  has 
been  to  give  me  a  new  interest  in  my  work." 

""  I  knew  before  that  the  ordinary  '  learn  by  rote ' 
method  was  not  real  education;  but  being  unac- 
quainted with  the  Science  upon  which  the  true  art 
of  instruction  is  founded,  all  my  ideas  on  the  sub- 
ject were  vague  and  changeable,  and  I  often  missed 
the  very  definite  results  of  the  *  hurdy-gurdy '  sys- 
tem without  altogether  securing  any  better  ones. 

*^  I  have  learned  that  the  only  education  worthy 
of  the  name  is  based  upon  principles  derived  from 
the  study  of  child-nature,  and  from  the  observation 
of  nature's  methods  of  developing  and  training  the 


36  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

inherent  powers  of  children  from  the  very  moment 
of  their  birth.  I  have  had  my  eyes  opened  to  ob- 
serve these  processes,  and  now  see  much  more  in 
the  actions  of  Httle  children  than  I  formerly  did. 
More  than  this,  I  have  learned  to  apply  the  prin- 
ciples of  nature  to  the  processes  of  formal  educa- 
tion, and  by  them  to  test  their  value  and  rightness, 
so  that  I  need  no  longer  be  in  doubt  and  darkness, 
but  have  sure  grounds  to  proceed  upon  under  any 
variation  of  circumstances. 

*'  Lastly,  I  have  learned  to  reverence  and  admire 
the  great  and  good,  who  in  different  ages  and  vari- 
ous countries  have  devoted  their  minds  to  the 
principles  or  the  practice  of  education,  whose 
thoughts,  whose  successors,  whose  very  failures  are 
full  of  instruction  for  educators  of  the  present  day, 
especially  for  those  who,  having  been  guided  to  the 
sure  basis  upon  which  true  education  rests,  are  in  a 
position  to  judge  of  the  value  of  their  different 
theories  and  plans,  and  to  choose  the  good  and 
refuse  the  evil." 

*'What  you  have  done  for  me  I  endeavor  to  do 
for  my  pupils.  I  make  them  correct  their  own 
errors;  indeed,  do  their  own  work  as  much  as 
possible.  Since  you  have  been  teaching  me,  my 
pupils  have  progressed  in  mental  development  as 
they  have  never  done  in  all  the  years  I  have  been 
teaching.  Though  from  want  of  power  and  early 
training  I  have  not  done  you  the  justice  which 
many  of  your  pupils  have,  still  you  have  set  your 
seal  upon  me,  and  made  me  aim  at  being,  what  I 
was  not  formerly,  a  scientific  teacher. " 

' '  And  now  to  turn  to  the  modifications  introduced 
into  my  practice  by  these  lectures.   I  was  delighted 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  37 

with  them,  and  was  more  astonished  as  each  week 
passed  at  what  I  heard.  New  hght  dawned  upon 
me,  and  I  determined  to  profit  by  it.  I  soon  saw 
some  of  the  prodigious  imperfections  in  my  teach- 
ing, and  set  about  remedying  them.  My  '  pupils 
should  be  self -teachers,'  then  I  must  treat  them  as 
such.  I  left  off  telHng  them  so  much,  and  made 
them  work  more.  I  discontinued  correcting  their 
exercises,  and  made  them  correct  them  themselves. 
I  made  them  look  over  their  dictation  before  they 
wrote  it,  and,  when  it  was  finished,  referred  them 
to  the  text  book  to  see  whether  they  had  written  it 
correctly.  .  .  Time  would  fail  me  to  give  in  detail 
all  the  alterations  introduced  into  my  practice." 

**In  conclusion,  considering  what  my  theory  and 
practice  were  when  I  entered  your  class,  I  am  con- 
vinced that  the  benefits  I  have  derived  as  regards 
both  are  as  follows : — (1)  I  have  learned  to  observe, 
(3)  to  admire,  (3)  to  imitate,  and  (4)  to  follow, 
Nature.  My  theories  have  become  based  on  the 
firm  foundation  of  principles  founded  on  facts ;  my 
practice  (falling  far  short  of  the  perfection  that  I 
aim  at  attaining)  is  nevertheless  in  the  spirit  of  it. 
And  although  in  all  probability  I  shall  never  equal 
any  of  those  great  teachers  whose  hves  and  labors 
you  have  described,  yet  I  know  that  I  shall  daily 
improve  in  my  practice  if  I  hold  fast  to  those  prin- 
ciples that  you  have  laid  down.  I  consider  you 
have  shown  me  the  value  of  a  treasure  that  I  un- 
consciously possessed — I  mean  the  power  of  observ- 
ing Nature  and  therefore  I  feel  towards  you  the 
same  sort  of  gratitude  that  the  man  feels  towards 
the  physician  who  has  restored  his  sight." 


38  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

These  expressions  will  show  that  my  labors,  how- 
ever imperfect,  have  not  ended  in  mere  talk. 

And  now  it  is  time  to  set  you  free  from  the  long 
demand  I  have  made  on  your  patience.  I  have 
studiously  avoided  in  this  lecture  tickling  your  ears 
with  rhetorical  flourishes.  My  great  master, 
Jacotot,  has  taught  me  that  "  rhetoric  and  reason 
have  nothing  in  common."  I  have  therefore  ap- 
pealed to  your  reason.  I  certainly  might  have  con- 
densed my  matter  more ;  but  long  experience  in  the 
art  of  intellectual  feeding  has  convinced  me  that 
concentrated  food  is  not  easy  of  digestion.  But  for 
this  fault—if  it  be  one— and  for  any  other,  whether 
of  commission  or  omission,  I  throw  myself  on  your 
indulgent  consideration. 


THE  THEORY  OR  SCIENCE  OF  EDUCATION, 

The  Science  of  Education  is  sometimes  called 
Pedagogy  or  Paideutics,  and  the  Art  of  Education, 
Didactics.  There  seems,  however,  no  need  for 
these  technical  terms.  The  expressions  Science  and 
Art  of  Education  are  explicit,  and  sufficiently  an- 
swer the  purpose. 

The  Theory  or  Science,  as  distinguished  from  the 
Practice  or  Art,  embraces  an  inquiry  into  the  prin- 
ciples on  which  the  Practice  or  Art  depends,  and 
which  give  reasons  for  the  efficiency  or  inefficiency 
of  that  practice.  I  do  not  profess  in  this  Lecture 
to  construct  the  Science  of  Education — ^that  still 
waits  for  its  development.  As,  however,  its  ulti- 
mate evolution  depends  very  much  on  a  general 
recognition  of  its  value  and  importance,  I  propose 
to  indicate  a  few  of  its  principles,  as  well  as  some 
of  the  sources  from  which  they  may  be  derived; 
and  further,  to  show  the  need  for  their  apphcation 
to  the  present  condition  of  the  art. 

In  the  progress  of  knowledge,  practice  ever  pre- 
cedes theory.  We  do,  before  we  inquire  why  we 
do.  Thus  the  practice  of  language  goes  before  the 
investigation  into  its  laws,  and  the  Art  before  the 
Science  of  Music.  It  is  the  same  with  Education. 
The  practice  has  long  existed ;  but  the  theory  has, 
as  yet,  been  only  partially  recognized.  As,  how- 
39 


40  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

ever,  theory  re-acts  on  practice,  and  improves  it, 
we  may  hope  to  see  the  same  result  in  Education, 
when  it  shall  be  scientifically  investigated. 

As  the  terms  Education  and  Instruction  will  fre- 
quently occur  in  these  Lectures,  it  may  be  con- 
venient at  the  outset  to  inquire  into  their  exact 
meaning. 

The  verb  educare,  from  which  we  get  the  word 
educate^  differs  from  its  primitive  educere  in  this 
respect,  that  while  the  latter  means  to  draw  forth 
by  a  single  act,  the  former,  as  a  sort  of  frequenta- 
tive verb,  signifies  to  draw  forth  frequently,  re- 
peatedly, persistently,  and  therefore  strongly  and 
permanently ;  and  in  a  secondary  sense  to  draw 
forth  faculties,  to  train  or  educate  them.  An  edu- 
ator  is  therefore  a  trainer,  whose  function  it  is  to 
draw  forth  persistently,  habitually  and  permanent- 
ly, the  powers  of  a  child,  and  education  is  the  pro- 
cess which  he  employs  for  this  purpose. 

Then  as  to  Instruction.  The  Latin  verb  instruere^ 
from  which  we  derive  instruct,  means  to  place  ma- 
terials together,  not  at  random,  but  for  a  purpose- 
to  pile  or  heap  them  one  upon  another  in  an  order- 
ly manner,  as  parts  of  a  preconceived  whole.  In- 
struction, then,  is  the  orderly  placing  of  know- 
ledge in  the  mind,  with  a  definite  object.  The  mere 
aggregation,  by  a  teacher,  in  the  minds  of  his  pu- 
pils, of  incoherent  ideas,  gained  by  desultory  and 
unconnected  mental  acts,  is  no  inore  instruction 
than  heaping  bricks  and  stones  together  is  bmld- 
ing  a  house.  The  true  instructor  is  never  content- 
ed with  the  mere  collection  oO  materials,  however 
valuable  in  themselves,  but  continually  seeks  to 
make  them  subservient  to  the  end  he  has  in  view. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  41 

He  is  an  educational  Amphion,  under  whose  in- 
fluence the  bricks  and  stones  move  together  to  the 
place  where  they  are  wanted,  and  grow  into  the 
form  of  a  harmonious  fabric. 

Instruction,  thus  viewed,  is  not,  as  some  conceive 
of  it,  the  antithesis  of  Education,  nor  generically 
distinct  from  it.  Every  educator  is  an  mstructor ; 
for  education  attains  its  ends  through  instruction ; 
but,  as  will  be  shown,  the  instructor  who  is  not 
also  consciously  an  educator,  fails  to  accomplish 
the  highest  aims  of  his  science.  The  instruction 
which  ends  in  itself  is  not  complete  education. 

But  wo  will  now  attempt  to  give  a  definition  of 
Education.  Education,  in  its  widest  sense,  is  a' 
general  expression  that  comprehends  all  the  in- 
fluences which  operate  on  the  himian  being,  stimu- 
lating his  faculties  to  action,  forming  his  habits, 
moulding  his  character,  and  making  him  what  he 
is.  Though  so  powerfully  affected  by  these  mflu-  , 
ences,  he  may  be  entirely  unconscious  of  them.v 
They  are  to  him  as  *'the  wind  which  bloweth 
where  it  listeth;  but  he  knows  not  whence  it 
Cometh  nor  whither  it  goeth."  They  are  not,  how- 
ever, less  real  on  this  account.  The  circumstances 
by  which  he  is  surrounded — the  chmate,  the  natur- 
al scenery,  the  air  he  breathes,  the  food  he  eats, 
the  moral  tone  of  the  family  life,  that  of  the  com- 
munity—all have  a  share  in  converting  the  raw 
material  of  human  nature,  either  into  healthy,  in- 
telligent, moral  and  religious  man ;  or,  on  the  con- 
trary, in  converting  it  into  an  embodiment  of  weak- 
ness, stupidity,  wickedness,  and  misery.  Thus  ex- 
ternal influences  automatically  acting  upon  a  neu- 
tral nature,  produce,  each  after  its  kind,  the  most 


42  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

opposite  results.  In  this  sense  the  poor  little  gam- 
in of  our  streets,  who  defiles  the  air  with  his  blas- 
phemies, whose  thoughts  are  of  the  dirt,  dirty,  who 
picks  our  pockets  with  a  clear  conscience,  has  been 
duly  educated  by  the  impure  atmosphere,  the 
squalid  misery,  the  sad  examples  of  act  and  speech 
presented  to  him  in  his  daily  life — to  be  the  outcast 
that  he  is.  Such  instances  show  the  wondrous 
power  of  the  education  of  circumstances. 

It  is  a  noticeable  characteristic  of  this  kind  of 
education,  that  its  pupils  rarely  evince  of  their 
own  accord  any  desire  for  improvement,  and  are 
in  this  respect  scarcely  distinguishable  from  bar- 
barians. The  savages  of  our  race  remain  savages, 
not  because  they  ha,ve  not  the  same  original  facul- 
ties as  ourselves— faculties  generally  capable  of  im- 
provement—but because  they  have  no  desire  for  im- 
provement. Nature  does  indeed  furnish  her  chil- 
dren with  elementary  lessons.  She  teaches  them 
the  use  of  the  senses,  language,  and  the  qualities  of 
matter,  but  she  leaves  them  to  procure  advanced 
knowledge  for  themselves,  while  she  implants  in 
their  minds  neither  motive  nor  desire  for  its  ac- 
quisition. The  differentia  of  the  savage  is,  that  he 
has  rarely  any  wish  for  self-elevation.  It  is  sad  to 
think  how  many  savages  of  this  kind  we  have  ^fcill 
amongst  ourselves ! 

But  education  is  conscious  as  well  as  uncon- 
scious. Some  cause  or  other  suggests  the  desire  for 
improvement.  The  teacher  appears  in  the  field, 
and  civilization  begins  its  career.  The  civilization 
which  we  contrast  with  barbarism  is  simply  the 
result  of  that  action  of  mind  on  mind  which  carries 
forward  the  teaching  of  Nature— in  other  words,  of 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  43 

what  we  call  education.  Where  there  is  no  spe- 
cific conscious  education,  there  is  no  civilization. 
Where  education  is  fully  appreciated,  the  result  is 
high  civilization ;  and  generally,  as  education  ad- 
vances, civilization  advances  in  proportion,  and 
thus  affords  a  measure  of  its  influence.  It  follows, 
then,  that  all  the  civilization  that  exists  is  ultim- 
ately due  to  the  educator,  including,  of  course,  the 
educator  in  religion. 

Education,  then,  as  we  may  now  more  specifical- 
ly define  it,  is  the  training  carried  on  consciously 
and  continuously  by  the  educator,  and  its  object  is 
to  convert  desultory  and  accidental  force  into  or- 
ganized action,  and  its  ultimate  aim  is  to  make  the 
child  operated  on  by  it  capable  of  becoming  a 
healthy,  intelligent,  moral  and  religious  man ;  or  it 
may  be  described  as  the  systematization  of  all  the 
influences  which  the  Science  of  Education  recog- 
nizes as  capable  of  being  employed  by  one  human 
being  to  develop,  direct,  and  maintain  vital  force 
in  another,  with  a  view  to  the  formation  of  habits. 

This  conception  of  the  end  of  education  defines 
the  function  of  the  educator.  He  has  to  direct 
forces  already  existing  to  a  definite  object,  and  in 
proportion  as  his  direction  is  wise  and  judicious 
will  the  object  be  secured. 

He  has  in  the  child  before  him  an  embodiment  of 
animal,  intellectual,  and  moral  forces,  the  action 
of  which  is  irregular  and  fortuitous.  These  forces 
he  has  to  develop  further,  direct,  and  organize. 
The  child  has  an  animal  nature,  affected  by  exter- 
nal influences,  and  endowed  with  vital  energies, 
which  may  be  used  or  abused  to  his  weal  or  woe. 
He  has  also  an  intellectual  nature,  capable  of  in- 


44  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

definite  development,  which  may  be  employed  in 
the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  and  gain  strength  by 
the  very  act  of  acquisition ;  but  which  may,  on  the 
other  hand,  through  neglect,  waste  its  powers,  or 
by  perversion  abuse  them.  He  has,  moreover,  a 
moral  nature  capable  by  cultivation  of  becoming  a 
means  of  usefulness  and  happiness  to  himself  and 
others,  or  of  becoming  by  its  corruption  the  fruit- 
ful source  of  misery  to  himself  and  the  communifcy. 

It  is  the  business  of  the  educator,  by  his  action 
and  influence  on  these  forces,  to  secure  their  bene- 
ficial and  avert  their  injurious  manifestation— to 
convert  this  undisciplined  energy  into  a  fund  of 
organized  self-acting  power. 

In  order  to  do  this  efficiently,  he  ought  to  under- 
stand the  nature  of  the  phenomena  that  he  has  to 
deal  with ;  and  his  own  training  as  a  teacher  ought 
especially  to  have  this  object  in  view.  Without 
this  knowledge,  much  that  he  does  may  be  really 
injurious,  and  much  more  of  no  value. 

To  speak  technically,  then,  a  knowledge  of  what 
is  going  on  in  his  pupils' bodies,  minds,  and  hearts, 
their  subjective  process,  will  regulate  the  means 
which  he  adopts  to  direct  the  action  of  those  bodies, 
minds,  and  hearts,  which  is  his  objective  process— 
the  one  being  a  counterpart  of  the  other— and  the 
consideration  of  what  this  knowledge  consists  of, 
and  how  it  may  be  best  appHed,  constitutes  the 
Theory  or  Science  of  Education. 

I  am  well  aware  that  the  mention  of  the  words 
"Theory  of  Education,"  and  the  assumption  that 
the  educator  ought  to  be  educated  in  it,  is  apt  to 
excite  some  degree  of  opposition  in  the  minds  of 
those  who  claim  especially  the  title  of  "practical 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  45 

teachers,"  and  who  therefore  characterize  this 
theory  as  **  a  quackery."  Now  a  quack,  the  dic- 
tionary tell  us,  is  *•  one  who  practices  an  art  with- 
out any  knowledge  of  its  principles. "  There  seems, 
then,  to  be  a  curious  infelicity  of  language  in  call- 
ing a  subject  which  embraces  principles,  which  es- 
pecially insists  on  principles,  a  quackery.  If  edu- 
cation, thus  viewed,  is  a  quackery,  then  the  same 
must  be  said  of  medicine,  law,  and  theology ;  and  it 
would  follow  that  the  greatest  proficient  in  the 
principles  of  these  sciences  must  be  the  greatest 
quack — a  remarkable  reductio  ad  dbsurdum.  This 
position,  then,  will  perhaps  hardly  be  maintained. 
But  there  is  a  second  line  of  defence.  The  prac- 
tical teachers  say— and,  doubtless,  say  sincerely — 
"We  don't  want  any  Theory  of  Education;  our 
aim  is  practical,  we  want  nothing  but  the  practi- 
cal." We  agree  with  them  as  to  the  value,  the  in- 
dispensable value,  of  the  practical,  but  not  as  to 
the  assumed  antagonism  between  theory  and  prac- 
tice. So  tar  from  being  in  any  strict  sense  opposed, 
they  are  identical.  Theory  is  the  general,  practice 
the  particular  expression  of  the  same  facts.  The 
words  of  the  theory  interpret  the  practice;  the 
propositions  of  the  science  interpret  the  silent  lan- 
guage of  the  art.  The  one  represents  truth  in 
posse,  the  other  in  esse ;  the  one,  as  Dr.  Whewell 
well  remarks,  involves,  the  other  evolves,  principles. 
So  in  Education,  theory  and  practice  go  hand-in- 
hand  ;  and  the  practical  man  who  denounces 
theory  is  a  theorist  in  fact.  (Goethe  says,  "Theory 
and  practice  always  act  upon  each  other ;  one  can 
see  from  their  works  what  men's  opinions  are ;  and 
from  their  opinions  predict  what  they  will  do.") 


46  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

He  does  not  of  course  drive  blindly  on,  without 
caring  whither  he  is  going ;  the  conception,  then, 
which  he  forms  of  his  end,  is  his  theory.  Nor  does 
he  act  without  considering  the  means  for  securing 
his  object.  This  consideration  of  the  means  as 
suitable  or  unsuitable  for  his  purpose,  is  again  his 
theory.  In  fact,  the  reasons  which  he  would  give 
for  his  actual  practice,  to  account  for  it  or  defend 
it,  constitute,  whether  he  admits  it  or  not,  his 
theory  of  action.  All  that  we  ask  is,  that  this  con- 
ception of  theory,  in  relation  to  education,  should 
be  extended  and  reduced  to  principles. 

Mr.  Grove,  the  eminent  Q.  C,  in  an  address 
given  at  St.  Mary's  Hospital,  forcibly  expresses  the 
same  opinion:  *'If  there  be  one  species  of  cant," 
he  says,  '*  more  detestable  than  another,  it  is  that 
which  eulogises  what  is  called  the  practical  man 
as  contradistinguished  from  the  scientific.  If,  by 
practical  man,  is  meant  one  who,  having  a  mind 
well  stored  with  scientific  and  general  information, 
has  his  knowledge  chastened  and  his  theoretic  tem- 
erity subdued,  by  varied  experience,  nothing  can 
be  better;  but  if,  as  is  commonly  meant  by  the 
phrase,  a  practical  man  means  one  whose  knowl- 
edge is  only  derived  from  habit  or  traditional  sys- 
tem, such  a  man  has  no  resource  to  meet  unusual 
circumstances ;  such  a  man  has  no  plasticity ;  he 
kills  a  man  according  to  rule,  and  consoles  him- 
self, like  Moliere's  doctor,  by  the  reflection  that  a 
dead  man  is  only  a  dead  man,  but  that  a  deviation 
from  received  practice  is  an  injury  to  the  whole 
profession." 

Practical  teachers  may,  however,  admit  that  they 
have  a  theory,  an  empirical  theory,  of  their  own 


THE  SCIENCE  AND   ART  OF  EDUCATION.  47 

which  governs  their  practice,  and  yet  deny  that 
the  generahzation  of  this  theory  into  principles 
would  be  of  any  value  to  themselves  or  to  the 
cause  of  education.  They  may  go  further  still, 
and  deny  both  that  there  is  or  can  be  any  Science 
of  Education.  Some  do,  indeed,  deny  both  these 
positions.  It  has  already  been  admitted  that  the 
Science  of  Education  is  as  yet  in  a  rudimentary 
condition.  There  is  at  present  no  such  code  of  in- 
disputable laws  to  test  and  govern  educational  ac- 
tion as  there  is  in  many  other  sciences.  Its  prin- 
ciples lie  disjointed  and  unorganized  in  the  sciences 
of  Physiology,  Psychology,  Ethics,  and  Logic,  and 
will  only  be  gathered  together  and  codified  when 
we  rise  to  a  high  conception  of  its  value  and  im- 
portance. Even  now,  however,  they  are  acknowl- 
edged in  the  discussion  of  such  questions  as,  the 
best  method  of  training  the  natural  faculties  of 
children— the  order  of  their  development— the  sub- 
jects proper  for  the  curriculum  of  instruction — 
book  teaching  versus  oral — ^the  differentia  of  female 
education—school  discipline— moral  training,  and 
a  multitude  of  others  which  will  one  day  be  decid- 
ed by  a  reference,  not  to  traditional  usage,  but  to 
the  principles  of  the  Science  of  Education.  The 
fact,  then,  that  this  science  is  not  yet  objectively 
constructed  is  no  argument  against  our  attempting 
to  construct  it,  and  we  maintain  that  the  pertina- 
cious adherence  to  the  notion  of  the  all-sufficiency 
of  routine  forms  the  greatest  difficulty  in  the  way 
of  securing  the  object.  It  is,  however,  mainly  for 
thq^sake  of  the  teachers  of  the  next  generation, 
that  the  importance  of  a  true  conception  of  the 
value  of  priQciples  in  education  is  insisted  on. 


48  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

It  follows,  then,  that  practical  teachers  who  de- 
sire  to  see  practice  improved — and  surely  there  is 
need  of  improvement — ought  to  admit  that  there  is 
the  same  obligation  resting  on  the  educator  to 
study  the  principles  of  his  art  as  there  is  on  the 
physician  to  study  anatomy  and  therapeutics,  and 
on  the  civil  engineer  to  study  mechanics.  The  art, 
in  each  of  these  cases,  has  a  scientific  basis,  and 
the  practitioner  who  desires  to  be  successful  in  it— 
to  be  the  master  and  not  the  slave  of  routine — must 
studiously  investigate  its  fundamental  principles. 

But  there  is  another  argument  against  routine 
teaching  which  ought  not  to  be  omitted.  It  is 
founded  on  the  effect  which  such  teaching  produces 
on  the  pupil.  Those  teachers  who  are  themselves 
the  slaves  of  routine  make  their  pupils  slaves  also. 
Without  intellectual  freedom  themselves,  they  can- 
not emancipate  their  pupils.  The  machine  gener- 
ates machines.  They  make  their  pupils  mechanic- 
ally apt  and  dexterous  in  processes,  and  in  this 
way  train  them  to  practice ;  but  not  appreciating 
principles  themselves,  they  cannot  train  them  to 
principles.  Yet  this  latter  training,  which  essen- 
tially involves  reasoning  and  thought,  ought  to  be 
the  continual  and  persistent  aim  of  the  educator. 
He  has  very  imperfectly  accomplished  the  end  of 
his  being  if  he  dismisses  his  pupils  as  merely 
mechanical  artisans,  knowing  the  how,  but  ignorant 
of  the  why  ;  expert  in  processes,  but  uninformed  in 
principles  ;  instructed,  but  not  truly  educated. 
It  is  the  possession  of  principles  which  gives 
mental  life,  courage,  and  power  :  the  courage 
which  is  not  daunted  where  routine  fails,  the 
power  which  not  only  firmly  directs  the  estab- 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  49 

lished  machinery,  but  corrects  its  apparent  eccen- 
tricities, can  repair  it  when  it  is  deranged,  and  ad- 
just its  forces  to  new  emergencies.  Take  the  case 
of  a  routine  pupil  to  whom  you  propose  an  arith- 
metical problem.  His  first  inquiry  is,  not  what  are 
the  conditions  of  the  question,  and  the  principles 
involved  in  its  solution,  but  what  rule  he  is  to 
work  it  by.  This  is  the  question  of  a  slave,  who 
can  do  nothing  without  orders  from  his  master. 
Well,  you  give  him  the  rule.  The  rule  is,  in  fact,  a 
resume  of  principles  which  some  scientific  man  has 
deduced  from  concrete  facts,  and  which  represents 
and  embodies  the  net  result  of  various  processes  of 
his  mind  upon  them.  But  what  is  it  to  our  routine 
pupil  ?  To  him  it  is  merely  an  order  given  by  a 
slave  driver,  and  he  hears  in  it  the  words, — Do 
this ;  don't  do  that ;  don't  ask  why ;  do  exactly  as  I 
bid  you.  He  reads  his  rule,  his  order,  does  what 
he  is  bid,  grinds  away  at  his  work,  and  arrives  at 
the  end  of  it  as  much  a  slave  as  ever,  and  he  is  a 
slave  because  his  master  has  made  him  one. 

Educators,  indeed,  hke  other  men,  come  under 
two  large  categories,  which  maybe  described  in  the 
pregnant  words  of  the  accomplished  author  of  the 
'*  Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast  Table."  ^'All  econ- 
omical and  practical  wisdom,"  he  says,  *'  is  an  ex- 
tension or  variation  of  the  following  arithmetical 
formula  2 +2=4.  Every  philosophical  proposition 
has  the  more  general  character  of  the  expression 
a+b=c.  We  are  merely  operatives,  empirics,  and 
egotists,  until  we  begin  to  think  in  letters  instead 
of  figures." 

Now  the  mere  routine  teacher  belongs  to  the 
former,  and  the  true  educator  to  the  latter  class, 


50  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

and  each  will  stamp  his  own  image  on  his  pupils. 

All  that  has  been  said  resolves  itself,  then,  into 
the  proposition  that  a  man  engaged  in  a  profession, 
as  distinguished  from  a  mere  handicraft,  ought 
not  only  to  know  ivhat  he  is  doing,  but  why ; 
the  one  constituting  his  practice,  the  other  his 
theory.  He  cannot  give  a  reason  for  the  faith  that 
is  in  him,  unless  he  examines  the  grounds  of  that 
faith, — unless  he  examines  them  per  se,  and  traces 
their  connection  with  each  other  and  with  the 
whole  body  of  truth.  The  possession  of  this  higher 
kind  of  knowledge,  the  knowledge  of  principfes  and 
laws,  is,  strictly  speaking,  his  only  warrant  for 
the  pretension  that  he  is  a  profefisional  man,  and 
not  a  mere  mechanic.  Society  has  not,  indeed, 
hitherto  demanded  this  professional  equipment  for 
the  educator,  nor  has  the  educator  himself  general- 
ly recognized  the  obligation,  aptly  stated  by  Dr. 
Arnold,  that,  *4n  whatever  it  is  our  duty  to  act, 
those  matters  also  it  is  our  duty  to  study,"  and 
hence  the  present  condition  of  education  in  Eng- 
land. Education  can  never  take  its  proper  rank 
among  the  learned  professions,  that  proper  rank 
being  really  the  highest  of  them  all,  until  teachers 
see  that  there  really  are  principles  of  Education, 
and  that  it  is  their  duty  to  study  them. 

But  there  is  another  mode  of  studying  principles 
besides  investigating  them  per  se.  They  may  be 
studied  in  the  practice  of  those  who  have  mastered 
them. 

It  is  clear  that  a  man  may  have  carefully  inves- 
tigated the  principles  of  an  art,  and  yet  fail  in  the 
application  of  them.  This  generally  arises  from 
his  not  having  fully  comprehended  them.     He  has 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  51 

omitted  to  notice  or  appreciate  something  which, 
if  he  knew  it,  would  answer  his  purpose ;  or  from 
want  of  early  training  finds  it  difficult  to  deduce 
facts  from  principles,  practice  from  theory.  In 
f  uch  a  case  there  is  an  available  resource.  Others 
have  seen  what  he  has  failed  to  see,  have  firmly 
grasped  what  he  has  not  comprehended,  have  made 
the  necessary  deductions,  and  embodied  them  in 
their  [own  practice.  Let  the  learner,  then,  in  the 
Science  of  Education,  study  that  practice  and  trace 
it  in  the  correspondence  between  the  principles 
which  he  but  partially  appreciates,  and  th3ir  prac- 
tical appHcation  in  the  methods  of  those  who  have 
thought  them  out.  In  other  words,  let  him  study 
the  great  masters  of  his  art,  and  learn  from  them 
the  philosophy  which  teaches  by  examples.  This 
study,  so  far  from  being  inconsistent  with  the 
Theory  of  Education,  is,  indeed,  a  necessary  part 
of  it.  We  may  all  learn  something  from  the  suc- 
cessful experience  of  others.  De  Quincy  (as  quoted 
by  Mr.  Quick  in  his  valuable  ^^  Essays  on  Educa- 
tional Reformers")  has  pointed  out  that  a  man 
who  takes  up  any  pursuit,  without  knowing  what 
advances  others  have  made  in  it,  works  at  a  great 
disadvantage.  He  does  not  apply  his  strength 
in  the  right  direction,  he  troubles  himself  about 
small  matters  and  neglects  greiat,  he  falls  into  er- 
rors that  have  long  since  been  exploded.  To  this 
Mr.  Quick  pertinently  adds, — ''I  venture  to  think, 
therefore,  that  practical  men,  in  education,  as  in 
most  other  things,  may  derive  benefit  from  the 
knowledge  of  what  has  been  already  said  and  done 
by  the  leading  men  engaged  in  it  both  past  and 
present."    Notv\dthstanding  the  obvious  common 


52  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

sense  of  this  observation,  it  is  undeniably  true  that 
the  great  majority  of  teachers  are  profoundly  igno- 
rant of  the  sayings  and  doings  of  the  authorities  in 
Education.  Their  own  empirical  methods,  their 
own  self -devised  principles  of  instruction,  general- 
ly form  their  entire  equipment  for  their  profession. 
I  have  myself  questioned  on  this  subject  scores  of 
middle-class  teachers,  and  have  not  met  with  so 
many  as  half-a-dozen  who  knew  anything  more 
than  the  names,  and  often  not  these,  of  Quintilian, 
Ascham,  Comenius,  Locke,  Pestalozzi,  Jacotot, 
Arnold,  and  Herbert  Spencer.  What  should  we 
say  of  a  physician  who  was  entirely  unacquainted 
with  the  researches  of  Hippocrates,  Galen,  Harvey, 
Sydenham,  the  Hunters,  and  Bright  ? 

In  the  foregoing  remarks  I  have  endeavored  to 
show  that  there  is,  and  must  be,  a  Theory  of  Edu- 
cation underlying  the  practice,  however  manifested, 
and  to  vindicate  the  conception  of  it  from  the  con- 
tempt sometimes  thoughtlessly  thrown  upon  it  by 
practical  teachers. 

But  it  is  important  now  to  attempt  to  ascertain 
what  resources,  in  the  shape  of  principles,  hints, 
and  suggestions,  it  furnishes  to  the  educator  in  his 
three-fold  capacity  of  director  of  Physical,  Mental, 
and  Moral  education. 

The  conception  we  have  formed  of  the  educator 
in  relation  to  his  work  requires  him  to  be  possessed 
of  a  knowledge  of  the  being  whom  he  has  to  con- 
trol and  guide.  "Whatever  questions,"  says  Dr. 
Youmans,  of  New  York,  *^of  the  proper  subjects  to 
be  taught,  their  relative  claims,  or  the  true  meth- 
ods of  teaching  them,  may  arise,  there  is  a  prior 
and  fundamental  inquiry  into  the  nature,  capabil- 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  53 

ities,  and  requirements  of  the  being  to  be  taught. 
A  knowledge  of  the  being  to  be  trained,  as  it  is  the 
basis  of  all  intelligent  culture,  must  be  the  first  ne- 
cessity of  the  teacher." 

PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

Viewed  merely  as  an  animal,  this  being  is  a  de- 
pository of  vital  forces,  which  may  be  excited  or 
depressed,  well-directed  or  misdirected.  These 
forces  are  resident  in  a  complicated  structure  of 
limbs,  senses,  breathing,  digesting  and  blood-cir- 
culating apparatus,  etc. ;  and  their  healthy  mani- 
festation depends  much  (of  course  not  altogether) 
upon  circumstances  under  the  control  of  the  edu- 
cator. If  he  understands  the  phenomena,  he  will 
modify  the  circumstances  for  the  benefit  of  the 
child ;  if  he  does  not  understand  them,  the  child 
will  suffer  from  his  ignorance.  The  daily  experi- 
ence of  the  school-room  sufficiently  illustrates  this 
point.  Place  a  large  number  of  children  in  a  small 
room  with  the  windows  shut  down,  and  detain 
them  at  their  lessons  for  two  or  three  hours  to- 
gether. Then  take  note  of  what  you  see.  The  im- 
pure air,  breathed  and  rebreathed  over  and  over 
again,  has  lost  its  vitality — has  become  poisonous. 
It  reacts  on  the  blood,  and  this  again  on  the  brain. 
The  teacher  as  well  as  the  children  all  suffer  from 
the  same  cause.  He  languidly  delivers  a  lesson  to 
pupils  who  more  languidly  receive  it.  They  are  no 
longer  able  to  concentrate  their  attention.  They 
answer  his  half -understood  questions  carelessly  and 
incorrectly.  Not  appreciating  the  true  state  of 
the  case,  he  treats  them  as  willfully  indifferent,  and 
punishes  the  offenders,   as   they   feel,    unjustly. 


54  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

They  retain  this  impression ;  the  cordial  relation 
subsisting  before  is  rudely  disturbed,  and  his  moral 
influence  over  them  is  impaired.  We  have  here 
a  natural  series  of  causes  and  consequences.  The 
state  of  the  air,  a  physical  cause,  acts  first  on 
the  bodies,  then  on  the  minds,  and  lastly  on  the 
hearts  of  the  pupils  ;  the  last  being,  perhaps,  the 
most  important  consequence  of  the  three.  Now 
in  this  case  both  teacher  and  pupils  suffer  from 
neglect  of  those  laws  of  health  which  a  knowl- 
edge of  Physiology  would  have  supplied.  It  is  un- 
necessary to  dwell  upon  the  obvious  applications  of 
such  knowledge  to  diet,  sleep,  cleaiUiness,  cloth- 
ing, etc. 

Knowledge  of  this  kind  has  been  strangely  over- 
looked in  the  educator's  own  education,  though  so 
much  of  his  efficiency  depends  on  his  actmg  him- 
self, and  causing  others  to  act,  on  the  full  recogni- 
tion of  its  value.  Education  has  too  generally  been 
regarded  in  its  relation  to  the  mind,  and  the  co- 
operation of  the  body  in  the  mind's  action  has  been 
forgotten.  Those  who  listened  to  the  masterly 
lecture,  delivered  a  few  years  ago  at  this  College 
by  Dr.  Youmans,  on  ^'  The  Scientific  Study  of  Hu- 
man Nature,"  will  remember  his  eloquent  vindica- 
tion of  the  claims  of  the  body  to  that  consideration 
which  educators  too  frequently  deny  it,  and  the 
consequent  importance  to  them  of  soimd  physio- 
logical knowledge.  With  singular  force  of  reason- 
ing he  showed  that  the  healthiness  of  the  brain,  as 
the  organic  seat  of  the  mind,  is  the  essential  basis 
of  the  teacher's  operations ;  that  the  efficiency  of 
the  brain  depends  in  a  great  degree  on  the  healthy 
condition  of  the  stomach,  lungs,  heart  and  skin; 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  55 

and  that  this  condition  is  very  much  affected  by 
the  teacher's  application  of  the  laws  of  health  as 
founded  on  Physiology.  His  general  remarks  on 
education,  and  especially  on  physical  education, 
are  too  valuable  to  be  omitted : 

"  The  imminent  question,"  he  says  (p.  406),  **is, 
how  may  the  child  and  youth  be  developed  health- 
fully and  vigorously,  bodily,  mentally,  and  moral- 
ly ?  and  science  alone  can  answer  it  by  a  statement 
of  the  laws  upon  which  that  development  depends. 
Ignorance  of  these  laws  must  inevitably  involve 
mismanagement.  That  there  is  a  large  amount  of 
mental  perversion  and  absolute  stupidity,  as  well 
as  bodily  disease,  produced  in  school,  by  measures 
which  operate  to  the  prejudice  oi  the  growing  brain, 
is  not  to  be  doubted ;  that  dullness,  indocility,  and 
viciousness,  are  frequently  aggravated  by  teachers, 
incapable  of  discriminating  between  their  mental 
and  bodily  causes,  is  also  undeniable ;  while  that 
teachers  often  miserably  fail  to  improve  their  pu- 
pils, and  then  report  the  result  of  their  own  incom- 
petency as  failures  of  nature^  —all  may  have  seen, 
although  it  is  now  proved  that  the  lowest  imbeciles 
are  not  sunk  beneath  the  possibility  of  elevation." 

I  give  one  short  quotation  from  Dr.  Andrew 
Combe,  to  the  same  effect.  *' I  cannot,"  he  says, 
'*  regard  any  teacher,  or  parent,  as  fully  and  con- 
scientiously quaHfied  for  his  duties,  unless  he  has 
made  himself  acquainted  with  the  nature  and  gen- 
eral laws  of  the  animal  economy,  and  with  the  di- 
rect relation  in  which  these  stand  to  the  principles 
of  education."  Dr.  Brigham  also  advises  those  who 
undertake  to  cultivate  and  discipline  the  mind,  to 


56  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

acquaint  themselves  with  Human  Anatomy  and 
Physiology. 

AH  these  authorities  agree,  then,  that  educators 
have  a  better  chance  of  improving  the  physical 
condition  of  their  pupils  if  they  are  themselves  ac- 
quainted with  the  laws  of  health ;  and  they  insist, 
moreover,  that  the  health  of  the  body  is  not  only 
desirable  for  its  own  sake,  but  because,  from  the 
interdependence  of  mind  and  body,  the  mena  sana 
depends  so  much  on  the  corpus  sanum.  This  truth 
is  strikingly,  though  paradoxically,  expressed  by 
Eousseau,  when  he  says,  *' The  weaker  the  body  is, 
the  more  it  commands ;  the  stronger  it  is  the  better 
it  obeys ;"  and  when  he  also  says,  *'  make  your  pu- 
pil robust  and  healthy,  in  order  to  make  him 
reasonable  and  wise." 

In  short,  hundreds  of  writers  have  written  on 
this  subject  for  the  benefit  of  educators,  thousands 
of  whom  have  never  even  heard  of,  much  less 
read,  their  writings ;  or,  if  they  have,  pursue  the 
even  tenor  of  their  way,  doing  just  as  they  did  be- 
fore, and  ignorantly  laughing  at  Hygiene  and  all 
the  aid  she  offers  them. 

Physical  education  also  comprehends  the  train- 
ing of  special  faculties  and  fuiictions,  with  a  view 
to  improve  their  condition.  The  trainer  of  horses, 
dogs,  singing  birds,  boxers,  boat  crews,  and  crick- 
eters, all  make  a  study,  more  or  less  profound,  of 
the  material  they  have  to  deal  with — all  except  the 
educator,  the  trainer  of  trainers,  who  generally 
leaves  things  to  take  their  chance,  or  assumes  that 
the  object  will  be  sufficiently  gained  by  the  exer- 
cises of  the  playground  and  the  gymnastic  appara- 
tus.   It  would  be  easy  to  show  that  this  self-educa- 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  67 

tion,  although  most  valuable,  is  insufficient,  and 
ought  to  be  supplemented  by  the  appliances  of 
Physiological  Science.  This  science  would  suggest, 
in  some  cases,  remedies  for  natural  defects;  in 
others,  suitable  training  for  natural  weakness ;  in 
others,  still  graver  reasons  for  checking  the  injuri- 
ous tendency,  so  common  amongst  children,  to 
over-exertion ;  and  in  all  these  cases  would  be  di- 
rectly ancillary  to  the  professed  object  of  the  edu- 
cator as  a  trainer  of  intellectual  and  moral  forces. 
The  effect,  too,  of  the  condition  of  the  mind  on 
that  of  the  body — the  converse  reciprocal  action — 
is  an  important  part  of  this  subject ;  but  there  is  no 
time  to  enter  on  it. 

INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

But  let  us  next  consider  the  relation  of  the  edu- 
cator to  the  intellectual  education  of  his  pupils. 
However  willing  he  may  be  to  repudiate  his  re- 
sponsibility for  the  training  of  their  bodies,  he  can- 
not deny  his  responsibility  for  the  training  of  their 
minds.  But  here  Dr.  Youmans'  words,  already 
quoted,  apply  with  especial  force— "A  knowledge 
of  the  being  to  be  trained,  as  it  is  the  basis  of  in- 
telligent culture,  must  be  the  first  necessity  of  the 
teacher,"  and  few  perhaps  will  venture  to  argue 
against  those  that  follow:  '' Education,'' he  says, 
is  an  art  like  locomotion,  mining,  and  bleaching, 
which  may  be  pursued  empirically  or  rationally — 
as  a  blind  habit,  or  under  intelligent  guidance :  and 
the  relations  of  science  to  it  are  precisely  the  same 
as  to  all  other  arts— to  ascertain  their  conditions, 
and  give  law  to  their  processes.    What  it  has  done 


68  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

for  navigation,  telegraphy,  and  war,  it  will  also  do 
for  culture." 

The  educator  of  the  mind  ought,  then,  to  he  ac- 
quainted with  its  phenomena  and  its  natural  oper- 
ations ;  he  ought  to  know  what  the  mind  does  when 
it  perceives,  remembers,  judges,  etc. ,  as  well  as  the 
general  laws  which  govern  these  processes.  He 
sees  these  processes  in  action  continually  in  his  pu- 
pils, and  has  thus  abundant  opportunities  of  study- 
ing them  objectively.  He  is  conscious  of  them, 
too,  in  his  own  intellectual  life,  and  there  may 
study  them  subjectively;  but  the  investigation, 
thus  limited,  is  confessedly  difficult,  and  will  be 
much  facilitated  by  his  making  an  independent 
study  of  them  as  embodied  in  the  science  of  Psy- 
chology or  Mental  Philosophy.  This  science  deals 
with  everything  which  belongs  to  the  art  which  he 
is  daily  practising,  will  explain  to  him  some  mat- 
ters which  he  has  found  difficult,  will  open  his  eyes 
to  others  which  he  has  failed  to  see,  will  suggest  to 
him  the  importance  of  truths  which  he  has  hither- 
to deemed  valueless ;  and,  in  short,  the  mastery  of 
it  will  endow  him  with  a  power  of  which  he  will 
constantly  feel  the  influence  in  his  practice.  His 
pupils  are  continually  engaged  in  observing  out- 
ward objects,  ascertaining  their  nature  by  analysis, 
comparing  them  together,  classifying  them,  gain- 
ing mental  conceptions  of  them,  recalling  these 
conceptions  by  memory,  judging  of  their  relations 
to  each  other,  reasoning  on  these  relations,  imag- 
ining conceptions,  inventing  new  combinations  of 
them,  generalizing  by  induction  from  particulars, 
verifying  these  generalizations  by  deduction  to 
particulars,  tracing  effects  to  causes  and  causes  to 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  59 

effects.  Now,  every  one  of  these  acts  forms  a 
part  of  the  daily  mental  life  of  the  pupils  whom 
the  educator  is  to  train.  Will  not  the  educator, 
who  understands  them  as  a  part  of  his  science,  be 
more  competent  to  direct  them  to  profitable  action 
than  one  who  merely  recognizes  them  as  a  part  of 
his  empirical  routine  ?  Suppose  that  the  object  is 
to  cultivate  the  power  of  observation.  Now  the 
power  of  observation  may  vary  in  accuracy  from 
the  careless  glance  which  leaves  scarcely  any  im- 
pression behind  it,  to  the  close  penetrating  scrutiny 
of  the  experienced  observer,  which  leaves  nothing 
imseen.  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill  (Logic  i.  408)  has  pointed 
out  the  difference  between  observers.  "  One  man," 
he  says,  "from  inattention,  or  attending  only  in 
the  wrong  place,  overlooks  half  of  what  he  sees ; 
another  sets  down  much  more  than  he  sees,  con- 
founding it  with  what  he  imagines,  or  with  what 
he  infers ;  another  takes  note  of  the  hind  of  all  the 
circumstances,  but,  being  inexpert  in  estimating 
their  degree,  leaves  the  quality  of  each  vague  and 
uncertain;  another  sees  indeed  the  whole,  but 
makes  such  awkward  division  of  it  into  parts, 
throwing  things  into  one  mass  which  ought  to  be 
separated,  and  separating  others  which  might  more 
conveniently  be  considered  as  one,  that  the  result 
is  much  the  same,  sometimes  even  worse,  than  if 
no  analysis  had  been  attempted  at  all.  To  point 
out,"  he  proceeds,  "what  qualities  of  mind,  or 
modes  of  mental  culture,  fit  a  man  for  being  a  good 
observer,  is  a  question  which  belongs  to  the  theory 
of  education.  There  are  rules  of  self -culture  which 
render  us  capable  of  observing,  as  there  are  arts 
for  strengthening  the  limbs," 


60  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

But  to  return  to  our  educator,  who,  having  been 
educated  himself  in  Mental  Science,  desires  to 
make  his  pupils  good  observers.  He  recognizes  the 
fact  that,  to  make  them  observe  accurately,  he 
must  first  cultivate  the  senses  concerned  in  observ- 
ing; he  must  train  the  natural  eye  to  see,  that  is, 
to  perceive  accurately —by  no  means  an  instinctive 
faculty ;  for  this  he  must  cultivate  the  power  of  at- 
tention ;  he  must  lead  them  to  perceive  the  parts 
in  the  whole,  the  whole  in  the  parts,  of  the  object 
observed,  calling  on  the  analytical  facidty  for  the 
first  operation,  the  synthetical  for  the  second ;  he 
must  invite  comparison  with  other  like  and  unlike 
objects,  for  the  detection  of  difference  in  the  one 
case,  and  of  similarity  in  the  other,  and  so  on.  Is 
it  probable  that  the  teacher  entirely  ignorant  of  the 
science  of  Psychology,  and  the  educator  furnished 
with  its  resources,  will  make  their  respective  pu- 
pils equally  accurate  observers  ? 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  show  that  a  knowl- 
edge of  Logic,  as  "  the  science  of  reasoning  "  or  of 
the  formal  laws  of  thought  should  also  be  a  part  of 
the  equipment  of  the  accomplished  educator.  The 
power  of  reasoning  is  a  natural  endowment  of  his 
pupils;  but  the  power  of  correct  reasoning,  like 
that  of  observing,  requires  training  and  cultiva- 
tion.   But  we  cannot  dwell  on  this  point. 

In  further  illustration  of  the  main  argument,  I 
beg  to  refer  my  hearers  to  the  very  ingenious  lec- 
ture lately  delivered  at  this  College  by  my  friend 
^^jy[r.  Lake,  on  *^The  Application  of  Mental  Science 
to'Teaching~"  and  especTally  to  teachmg  writm^, 
wherein  he  shows  that  even  that  mechanical  art 
may  be  made  a  means  of  real  mental  training  to 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  61 

the  pupil.  He  proves  that  Muscular  Sensibility, 
Sensation,  Thought,  Will,  as  well  as  the  nascent 
sense  of  Artistic  Taste,  are  all  involved  in  the  sub- 
jective process  of  the  pupil;  that  in  accordance 
with  this,  the  educated  educator  frames  the  objec- 
tive process,  through  which  he  develops  the  pupil's 
mind,  and  to  some  extent  his  moral  character,  and 
thus  makes  him  a  practical  proficient  in  his  art. 
Mr.  Lakers  lecture  is  probably  the  first  attempt 
ever  made  tQ,.ghQW  the  direct  prarctical  b^eafiiig  oT 
physiological  and  psychological  knowledge  of  the 
art  of  teaching,  and  deserves  the  thoughtful  con- 
sideration of  all  educators.  This  same  Mental  Sci- 
ence is  also  applicable  to  the  teaching  of  Eeading 
and  Arithmetic.  Indeed,  I  am  persuaded — and  I 
speak  from  some  experience — ^that  these  elemen- 
tary arts  may  be  so  taught  as  to  become,  not  only 
'*  instruction,"  but  true  *'  education,"  to  the  child ; 
not  merely,  as  they  are  generally  regarded,  *^  in- 
struments of  education,"  but  education  itself.  Ob- 
servation, memory,  judgment,  reasoning,  inven- 
tion, and  pleasurable  associations  with  the  art  of 
learning,  may  all  be  cultivated  by  a  judicious  ap- 
pHcation  of  the  principles  of  Mental  Science.  Mul- 
hauser  and  Manly  (of  the  City  of  London  School), 
have  proved  this  for  Writing,  Jacotot  for  Eeading, 
and  Pestalozzi  for  Arithmetic.  When  this  truth  is 
acknowledged,  it  will  be  felt  more  generally  than 
it  is  now,  that  the  most  pretentious  schemes  and 
curricula  of  education  are,  after  all,  comparatively 
valueless  if  they  do  not  secure  for  the  pupil  the 
power  of  doing  common  things  well.  This,  how- 
ever, is  a  theme  which  would  require  a  lecture  by 
itself  for  its  adequate  treatment. 


62     THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 
MORAL  EDUCATION. 

But  the  child  whom  we  have  considered  as  the 
object  of  the  educator's  operations  has  moral  as 
well  as  physical  and  intellectual  faculties ;  and  the 
development  of  these,  with  the  view  of  forming 
character,  is  a  transcendantly  important  part  of 
the  educator's  work.  This  child  has  feelings,  de- 
sires, a  will  and  a  conscience,  which  are  to  be  de- 
veloped and  guided.  Here,  too,  as  in  the  other 
cases,  Nature  has  given  elementary  teaching,  and 
elicited  desultory  and  instinctive  action ;  but  her 
lessons  are  msufficient,  and  require  to  be  supple- 
mented by  the  educator's. 

The  child,  as  already  said,  is  a  moral  being,  but 
his  moral  principles  are  crude  and  inconsistent. 
Acted  on  by  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  he  follows 
out  the  promptings  of  his  will,  without  any  regard 
to  personal  or  relative  consequences ;  and  if  the 
will  is  naturally  strong,  even  the  experience  of  in- 
jurious consequences  does  not,  of  itseJf,  restrain 
him.  Self-love  induces  him  to  regard  everything 
that  he  wishes  to  possess  as  rightfully  his  own.  He 
says  by  his  actions,  ''Creation's  heir,  the  world — 
the  world  is  mine."  He  is  therefore  indifferent  to 
the  rights  of  others,  and  resents  all  opposition  to 
his  self-seeking.  He  is  also  indifferent  to  the  feel- 
ings of  others,  and  often  tyrannizes  over  those  who 
are  weaker  than  himself.  His  unbounded  curiosity 
impels  him  incessantly  to  gain  knowledge.  He  ex- 
amines everything  that  interests  him;  acquires 
both  ideas  and  expressions  by  listening  to  conver- 
sation ;  breaks  his  toys  to  see  how  they  are  made ; 
displays  also  his  constructive  ability  by  cutting 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  63 

out  boats  and  paper  figures.  But  he  has  sympathy 
as  well  as  curiosity.  He  makes  friends,  learns  to 
love  them,  to  yield  up  his  own  inclinations  to 
theirs;  imitates  their  sayings  and  doings,  good  and 
bad ;  adopts  their  notions,  becomes  like  them.  He 
has  also  a  conscience,  which,  when  awakened,  de- 
cides, though  in  an  uncertain  maimer,  on  the  mor- 
al quality  of  his  actions ;  and  lastly,  he  has  a  will, 
which  is  swayed  by  this  self-love,  curiosity,  sym- 
pathy, and  conscience. 

This  is  a  slight  sketch  of  the  moral  forces  which 
the  educator  has  to  control  and  direct.  Now  every 
teacher  is  conscious  that  he  can,  and  does  every 
day,  by  his  personal  character,  by  the  economic 
arrangements  of  the  school,  by  his  general  discip- 
line, by  special  treatment  of  individual  cases,  ex- 
ercise a  considerable  influence  over  these  moral 
phenomena ;  and  must  confess  that  the  extent  of 
this  influence  is  generally  measured  by  his  own 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  that  when  he 
fails  it  is  because  he  forgets  or  is  ignorant  of  some 
elementary  principle  of  that  nature.  If  he  allows 
this,  he  must  allow  that  a  larger  acquaintance 
with  the  principles  on  which  human  beings  act, — 
the  motives  which  influence  them,— the  objects  at 
which  they  commonly  aim, — ^the  passions,  desires, 
characters,  manners  which  appear  in  the  world 
around  him  and  in  his  own  constitution, — ^would 
proportionately  increase  his  influence. 

But  these  are  the  very  matters  illustrated  by  the 
Science  of  Morals,  or  Moral  Philosophy,  and  the 
educator  will  be  greatly  aided  in  his  work  by 
knowing  its  leading  principles. 

For  what  is  the  object  of  moral  traim^ig  ?    Is  it 


64  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

not  to  give  a  wise  direction  to  the  moral  powers, — 
to  encourage  virtuous  inclinations,  sentiments,  and 
passions,  and  to  repress  those  that  are  evil,  —to  cul- 
tivate habits  of  truthfulness,  obedience,  industry, 
temperance,  prudence,  and  respect  for  the  rights  of 
others,  with  a  view  to  the  formation  of  character  ? 

This  enumeration  of  the  objects  of  moral  train- 
ing presents  a  wide  field  of  action  for  the  educator ; 
yet  a  single  day's  experience  in  any  large  school 
will  probably  supply  the  occasion  for  his  dealing 
with  every  one  of  them.  How  important  it  is, 
then,  that  he  should  be  well  furnished  with  re- 
sources. 

Every  earnest  educator,  moreover,  will  confess 
that  he  has  much  to  learn,  especially  in  morals, 
from  his  pupils.     To  be  successful,  he  must  study 
his  own  character  in  theirs,  as  well  as  theirs  in  his 
own.    Coleridge  has  well  put  this  in  these  lines : 
**0'er  wayward  childhood  would'st  thou  hold  firm  rule, 
And  sun  thee  in  the  light  of  happy  faces  ? 
Love^  Hope  and  Patience — these  must  be  thy  graces  ; 
And  in  thine  own  heart  let  them  first  keep  school.' ' 

A  little  story  from  Chaucer  illustrates  the  same 
point.  I  give  it  in  his  own  words: — ''A  philoso- 
pher, upon  a  tyme,  that  wolde  have  bete  his  dis- 
ciple for  his  grete  trespas,  for  which  he  was  gretly 
amoeved,  and  brought  a  yerde  to  scourge  the 
child;  and  whan  the  child  saugh  the  yerde,  he 
sayde  to  his  maister,  '  What  thenke  ye  to  do  ? '  *I 
wolde  bete  the,'  quod  the  maister,  '  for  thi  correc- 
cioun.'  *  Forsothe,'  quod  the  child,  '  ye  oughte  first 
correcte  youresilf  that  han  lost  al  youre  patience 
for  the  gilt  of  a  child.'  '  Forsothe,'  quod  the  mais- 
ter, al  wepying,  '  thou  saist  soth ;  have  thou  the 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  65 

yerde,  my  deere  sone,  and  correcte  me  for  myn  im- 
pacience.'"  This  master  was  learning,  we  see,  in 
the  school  of  his  own  heart,  and  his  pupil  was  his 
teacher. 

Time  does  not  allow  of  our  entering  more  in  de- 
tail into  the  question  of  moral  training,  and  show- 
ing that  the  great  object  of  moral,  like  that  of 
physical  and  intellectual  education,  is  to  develop 
force,  with  a  view  to  the  pupil's  self-action.  Unless 
this  point  is  gained — and  it  cannot  be  gained  by 
preceptive  teaching — ^little  is  gained.  Our  pupil's 
character  is  not  to  be  one  merely  for  holiday  show, 
but  for  the  daily  duties  of  life — a  character  which 
will  not  be  the  sport  of  every  wind  of  doctrine,  but 
one  in  which  virtue, — moral  strength, — is  firmly 
embodied.  Such  a  character  can  only  be  formed 
by  making  the  child  himself  a  co-operator  in  the 
process  of  formation. 

If  I  have  not  specially  referred  to  religious,  as  a 
part  of  moral  education,  it  is  because  no  truly  reli- 
gious educator  can  fail  to  make  it  a  part  of  his  sys- 
tem of  means.  As  for  the  case  of  the  teacher  whose 
every-day  life  shows  that  he  is  not  influenced  him- 
self by  the  religion  which  he,  as  a  matter  of  form, 
imposes  upon  his  pupils,  I  have  great  difficulty  in 
conceiving  of  him  as  a  teacher  of  morals  at  all. 

I  have  now  completed  the  general  view  I  pro- 
posed to  take  of  the  relation  of  the  educator  to  his 
work ;  and  the  gist  of  all  that  I  have  said  is  con- 
tained in  the  simple  proposition,  that  he  ought  to 
know  his  business,  if  he  wishes  to  accomplish  its 
objects  in  the  best  way.  The  deductions  from  this 
proposition  are,— that,  as  his  business  consists  in 
training  physical,   mental,   and  moral  forces,  he 


66  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

ought  to  understand  the  nature  of  these  forces, 
both  in  their  statical  and  dynamical  condition,  at 
rest  and  in  action,  and  should  therefore  study- 
Physiology,  Psychology,  Ethics,  and  Logic,  which 
explain  and  illustrate  so  many  of  the  phenomena ; 
that  he  should,  moreover,  study  them,  as  embodied 
in  the  practice  of  the  great  masters  of  his  art.  (The 
late  Mr.  Fletcher,  Inspector  of  Schools,  says:  **The 
intellectual  faculties  can  never  be  exercised 
thoroughly  but  by  men  of  sound  logical  training, 
perfect  in  the  art  of  teaching ;  hence  there  exist  so 
few  highly-gifted  teachers.  In  fact,  there  are  none 
but  men  of  some  genius  who  are  said  to  have  pecu- 
liar tact  J  which  it  is  impossible  to  imitate:  but  I 
am  anxious  to  see  every  part  of  the  fine  art  of  in- 
struction redeemed  from  hopeless  concealment  un- 
der such  a  word,  and  made  the  subject  of  rational 
study  and  improved  training.")  Inspired  thus  with 
a  noble  ideal  of  his  work,  he  will  gradually  realize 
it  in  his  practice,  and  become  an  accomplished  edu- 
cator. He  will  meet  with  many  difficulties  in  this 
self -training,  but  the  advantages  he  gains  wiU 
more  than  compensate  him.  None  can  know  bet- 
ter than  himself — none  so  well — the  trials,  disap- 
pointmentP,  f aintings  of  heart,  and  defeats  that  his 
utmost  skill  cannot  always  turn  into  victories, 
which  he  will  have  to  encounter ;  but  then,  on  the 
other  hand,  few  can  know  as  he  does  those  mo- 
ments of  wonderful  happiness  which  fall  to  his  lot 
when  he  sees  his  work  going  on  well ;  when,  in  the 
improved  health,  the  increased  intellectual  and 
moral  power  of  his  pupils,  he  recognizes  the  result 
of.  measures  which  he  has  devised,  of  principles 
which  he  has  learnt  from  the  school  without,  from 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  67 

the  school  within,  and  from,  the  ripe  experience  and 
thought  of  the  fellow-laborers  of  the  craft.  At 
such  moments,  fraught  with  the  spirit  of  the  great 
artist,  who  exclaimed  in  his  enthusiasm,  "  Ed  io 
anche  sono  pittore;"  he  also  exclaims,  '*  And  I  too 
am  an  educator !"  This  enthusiasm  will  be  more 
common  when  educators  entertain  a  more  exalted 
conception  of  their  profession. 

That  the  educator  cannofc  fully  realize  his  concep- 
tion, is  no  argument  against  his  keeping  it  con- 
stantly in  view,  to  stimulate  his  zeal  and  guide  his 
practice.  The  equation  of  aims  and  achievements 
must,  after  all,  be  an  indeterminate  one ;  but  we 
approach  nearer  and  nearer  to  its  solution,  by  a 
high  assimaption  for  the  aims.  *'  We  strive,"  as 
Coleridge  says,  ^*  to  ascend,  and  we  ascend  in  our 
striving." 

Nothing  has  been  said  of  the  value  of -Physiology, 
Psychology,  etc.,  to  the  educator  merely  as  a  man, 
not  as  a  professional  man.  But  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  it  must  be  great.  Nor  have  they  been  pointed 
out  as  subjects  of  direct  instruction  for  his  pupils ; 
yet  surely  it  is  important  that  he  should  be 
able  to  give  in  his  class  elementary  lessons 
on  all  these  subjects,  particularly  on  Physi- 
ology. The  nomenclature,  at  least,  and  the 
rudiments  of  Psychology  may  be  advantageous- 
ly learned  by  elder  pupils,  and  the  elements  of 
Logic  should  certainly  form  a  part  of  the 
instruction  of  students  of  Euclid  and  grammatical 
analysis. 

But  beyond  the  theoretical  treatment  of  the  Sci- 
ence of  Education,  I  have  a  practical  object  in 
view.    I  wish  to  show  that  there  is  a  strong  pre- 


68  .         THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EBTTCATION. 

sumption  that  the  educator  of  our  day  needs  educa- 
tion in  his  art.  Individual  teachers  may  deny  this 
for  themselves— they  generally  do —but  they  freely 
admit  it  with  regard  to  their  rivals  in  the  next 
street,  or  the  next  town.  Generalize  this  admission, 
and  all  we  ask  for  is  granted.  But  there  is  a  test 
of  a  different  kind  which  disposes  of  the  question— 
the  test  of  results.  * '  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know 
them."  If  the  fruit  is  good,  the  tree  is  good.  If 
the  large  majority  of  schools  are  in  a  satisfactory 
condition,  then  the  educator  is  doing  his  work  well; 
for  **as  is  the  master,  so  is  the  school" — which 
meanS;  to  speak  technically,  that  the  results  of  a 
system  of  education  are  not  as  the  capabilities  of 
the  pupil,  nor  as  the  external  school  machinery, 
but  as  the  professional  preparedness  of  the  educa- 
tor. If,  then,  the  large  majority  of  schools  are  un- 
satisfactory,- it  is  because  the  teacher  is  unsatis- 
factory. And  that  they  are  so,  is  proved  by  every 
test  that  can  be  applied.  All  the  Commissions  on 
Education — ^whether  primary,  secondary,  or  ad- 
vanced— ^tell  the  same  tale,  pronounce  the  same 
verdict  of  failure;  and  that  verdict  would  have 
been  more  decided  had  the  judges  been  themselves 
educators.  Dealing  with  a  subject  which  they 
know  mostly  as  amateurs,  not  as  experts,  they  are 
not  competent  to  estimate  the  results  by  a  scienti- 
fic standard ;  they  therefore  reckon  as  good  much 
that  is  reaUy  bad ;  for  the  value  of  a  result  in  edu- 
cation mainly  depends  on  the  manner  in  which  it 
has  been  gained.  Yet  even  these  estimators  sever- 
ally declare  that  the  educational  machinery  of  this 
country  is  working  immensely  under  the  theoretic- 
al  estimate   of   its  power.     The    *' scandalously 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  69 

small  "  results  of  the  Public  School  education  are 
paralleled  or  exceeded  by  those  of  the  Middle  Class 
and  Primary  Schools;  and  in  cases  of  primary 
schools  where  this  epithet  would  not  apply,  we  find 
that  the  superiority  is  due  to  the  preliminary  train- 
ing of  the  teacher. 

What,  again,  is  to  be  said  of  the  evidence  fur- 
nished by  such  a  statement  as  the  following,  which 
is  extracted  from  the  Athenceum  of  March  27, 1869 : 
*'  A  petition  was  last  week  presented  to  the  House 
of  Commons  from  the  Council  of  Medical  Educa- 
tion, stating  that  the  maintenance  of  a  sufficient 
medical  education  is  very  difficult,  owing  to  the  de- 
fective education  given  in  middle  class  schools.  A 
similar  complaint  was  made  in  a  petition  from  the 
British  Medical  Association,  numbering  4, 000  mem- 
bers. In  a  third  petition,  proceeding  from  the 
University  of  London,  it  was  stated  that  during 
the  last  10  years  40  per  cent,  [it  has  since  been 
more  than  50  per  cent.]  of  the  candidates  at  the 
Matriculation  examinations  have  failed  to  satisfy 
the  examiners." 

Once  more,  Sir  John  Lefevre,  describing,  in  1861, 
the  mental  condition  of  the  candidates  for  the  Civil 
Service  who  came  before  him  for  examination,  re- 
fers to  *'the  incredible  failures  in  orthography ,  the 
miserable  writing,  the  ignorance  of  arithmetic." 
'*It  is  comparatively  rare,"  he  says,  "to  find  a 
candidate  who  can  add  correctly  a  moderately 
long  column  of  figures."  Some  improvement  has 
taken  place,  no  doubt,  during  the  last  ten  years 
under  the  influence  of  the  examinations  of  the  Col- 
lege of  Preceptors,  and  those  of  Oxford  and  Cam- 


70  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

bridge,  but  the  main  diflOLCulty  remains  much  the 
same. 

This,  then,  is  the  evidence,  or  rather  a  part  of  the 
evidence  which  attests  the  unsatisfactory  results  of 
our  middle-class  teaching.  But  we  repeat,  *'  as  are 
the  teachers,  so  are  the  schools;"  and,  therefore, 
without  hesitation  make  the  teachers  directly  re- 
sponsible for  these  results.  Had  they  been  masters 
of  their  art,  these  results  would  have  been  impos- 
sible ;  and  they  are  not  masters  of  their  art,  because 
they  have  not  studied  its  principles,  nor  been  sci- 
entifically trained  in  its  practice. 

The  true  remedy  has  been  suggested  by  many 
eminent  men,  not  merely  by  teachers.  It  consists 
in  teaching  the  teacher  how  to  teach,  in  training 
the  trainer,  in  educating  the  educator. 

Thus,  Dr.  Gull,  after  complaining  of  the  insuffi- 
cient education  of  youths  who  are  to  study  medi- 
cine, said  (Evidence  before  Schools  Enquiry  Com- 
mission) that  *'  improvement  must  begin  with  the 
teachers.  Any  one  is  allowed  to  teach.  There  is  no 
testing  of  the  teacher.  I  think  he  should  be  ex- 
amined as  to^his  power  of  teaching  and  his  knowl- 
edge." *'  The  subjects  (for  his  preparation)  should 
include  the  training  of  the  senses,  and  the  intellect, 
and  the  teaching  of  the  moral  relations  of  man  to 
himself  and  his  neighbor." 

Mr.  Robson,  in  his  evidence  before  the  same  Com- 
mission, said:  '^  We  should  require  certificates  of 
teachers  showing  that  knowledge  has  been  attain- 
ed, and  also  some  knowledge  of  Mental  Philosophy 
in  connection  with  the  art  of  .Teaching.  Every 
teacher  has  to  act  on  the  human  mind,  and  unless 
he  knows  the  best  methods  of  so  acting,  it  is  quite 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  71 

impossible  he  can  exercise  his  powers  to  the  best 
advantage."  The  evidence  of  Messrs.  Howson, 
Besant,  Goldwin  Smith,  Best,  and  others,  was  to 
the  same  effect. 

The  Assistant  Commissioners,  Messrs.  Bryce, 
Fearon,  and  especially  Mr.  Fitch,  make  the  same 
complaints  of  the  want  of  training  for  the  teacher. 
Mr.  Fitch — who  has  every  right  to  be  heard  on 
such  a  point,  for  he  thoroughly  knows  the  subject, 
practically  as  well  as  theoretically— says  in  his  re- 
port on  Yorkshire  Endowed  and  Private  Schools, 
•'Nothing  is  more  striking  than  the  very  general 
disregard  on  the  part  of  schoolmasters  of  the  Art 
and  Science  of  Teaching.  Few  have  had  any  spe- 
cial preparation  in  it.  Professional  training  for 
middle-class  schoolmasters  does  not  exist  in  this 
country.  It  is  certain  that  many  of  them  would 
gladly  obtain  it,  if  it  were  accessible.  But  at  pres- 
ent it  is  not  to  be  had."  And  again.  *'  It  is  a  truth 
very  imperfectly  recognized  by  teachers,  that  the 
education  of  a  youth  depends  not  only  on  what  he 
learns,  but  on  how  he  learns  it,  and  that  some 
power  of  the  mind  is  being  daily  improved  or  in- 
jured by  the  methods  which  are  adopted  in  teach- 
ing him."  Mr.  Fitch,  in  another  place,  also  re- 
marks, ''We  aU  know  instances  of  men  who  un- 
derstand a  subject  thoroughly,  and  who  are  yet 
utterly  incapable  of  teaching  it.  We  have  all  seen 
that  waste  of  power  and  loss  of  time  continually 
result  from  the  tentative,  haphazard,  and  unskil- 
ful devices  to  which  teachers  of  this  kind  resort. 
Yet  we  seem  slow  to  admit  the  obvious  inference 
from  such  experience.  The  art  of  teaching,  like 
other  arts,  must  be  systematically  acquired.    The 


72  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION 

profession  of  a  schoolmaster  is  one  for  which  no 
man  is  duly  qualified  who  has  not  studied  it  thor- 
oughly, both  in  its  principles  and  in  their  practical 
application." 

The  Bev.  Evan  Daniel,  principal  of  Battersea 
Normal  School,  aptly  describes  the  two  main 
classes  of  middle-class  teachers.  1st.  University 
men,  *^not  infrequently  of  distinguished  ability 
and  scholarship.  Few  of  them,  however,  have  had 
the  advantage  of  professional  training.  They  en- 
ter on  their  work  with  but  a  slight  knowledge  of 
child'life ;  they  have  never  studied  the  psychologic- 
al principles  on  which  education  should  be  based ; 
they  are  almost  utterly  ignorant  of  the  best  modes 
of  teaching,  of  organizing,  and  of  maintaining  dis- 
cipline." These  are  the  teachers,  rather  the  would- 
be  teachers,  who,  as  a  distinguished  Head  Master 
told  us  some  time  ago  in  the  Times,  are  to  be  al- 
lowed to  find  out  their  art  by  victimizing  their 
pupils  for  two  whole  years  before  they  become 
worth  anything  to  their  profession.  But  Mr. 
Daniel  also  refers  to  the  other  class  of  teachers, 
who,  besides  wanting  everything  that  the  former 
class  want,  also  want  their  mental  cultivation,  and 
remain  "in  a  state  of  intellectual  stagnation,  dis- 
charging their  duties  in  a  half-hearted  perfunctory 
spirit,  and  finding  them  twice  as  hard  and  dis- 
agreeable as  they  need  be,  from  the  want  of  suit- 
able preparation  for  them." 

The  arguments  then  from  theory  and  those  from 
facts  meet  at  this  point,  and  demand  with  united 
force  that  the  educator  shall  be  educated  for  his 
profession.  But  how  is  this  to  be  brought  about  ? 
What  is  doing  in  furtherance  of  this  most  impor- 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  73 

tant  object  ?  The  answer  to  the  question  must  be 
brief,  and  shows  rather  tentative  efforts  than  ac- 
complished facts. 

1.  The  training  of  teachers  for  primary  schools  is 
going  on  satisfactorily  in  the  Normal  Colleges  of 
the  National  and  British  and  Foreign  School  So- 
cieties, so  that  what  is  asked  for  middle-class 
teachers  is  evidently  possible.  They  can  be  trained 
into  better  teachers  than  they  are. 

2.  This  training  of  middle-class  teachers,  which 
some  decry  as  quackery  and  others  as  useless,  is 
actually  going  on  in  France  and  Germany  most 
satisfactorily.  In  both  countries,  highly  cultivated 
and  efficient  educators,  with  whom  the  majority 
of  English  teachers  would  have  no  chance  of  com- 
peting, are  the  everyday  product  of  their  respective 
systems  of  training. 

3.  Our  Government,  in  the  Educational  Council 
Bill,  for  the  present  withdrawn,  provided  "that 
all  teachers  of  endowed  schools  should  be  register- 
ed, as  persons  whose  qualifications  for  teaching 
have  been  ascertained  by  examinations,  or  by 
proved  efficiency  in  teaching  on  evidence  satisfac- 
tory to  the  Council;"  and  that  teachers  of  private 
schools  might  also  be  entered  on  the  registry,  by 
showing  similar  qualifications. 

4.  The  Scholastic  Eegistration  Association,  hav- 
ing for  its  object  "  the  discouragement  of  unquali- 
fied persons  from  assuming  the  office  of  school- 
master or  teacher,"  has  obtained  a  large  share  of 
public  approval,  and  numbers  among  its  members 
many  head-masters  of  pubHc  schools  and  colleges, 
as  Drs,  Hornby,  Kennedy,  Haig-Brown  (President 
of  the  Association),    Thring,   Collis,  Weymouth, 


74  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

Schmitz,  Rigg,  Donaldson,  Jones,  Mitchinson,  the 
Revs.  E.  A.  Abbott  and  F.  W.  Farrar,  and  many 
other  distinguished  friends  of  education. 

5.  The  College  of  Preceptors,  too,  by  the  institu- 
tion of  this  Lectureship,  by  the  re-constitution  of 
its  Examinations  for  Teachers,  and  by  its  recent 
memorial  to  the  Government  on  Training  Colleges, 
is  showing  itself  fully  alive  to  the  importance  of 
the  subject.  Its  new  examinations  have  just  taken 
place,  and  candidates  have  for  the  first  time  been 
examined  on  the  principles  of  Physiology,  Psychol- 
ogy, Moral  Philosophy  and  Logic,  and  their  appli- 
plication  to  the  art  of  teaching,  as  well  as  on  their 
own  personal  experience  as  educators.  The  results 
have  shown  how  deeply  needed  is  this  knowledge 
of  principles ;  out  of  fifteen  candidates  only  three 
have  satisfied  the  examiners.  We  still  hope,  how- 
ever, by  placing  a  high  standard  before  the  candid- 
ates, and  requiring  an  earnest  study  of  the  subjects 
of  examination,  to  make  our  diplomas  certificates 
of  real  qualification,  as  far  as  written  and  viva 
voce  examinations  can  test  it. 

Yet  the  real  desideratum,  after  all,  is  Training 
Colleges  for  middle-class  teachers,  Professorships 
of  Education  at  our  leading  Universities,  and  more, 
perhaps,  than  all,  a  nobler  conception  of  education 
itself  among  English  teachers. 


THE  PRACTICE  OR  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

The  Theory  of  Education,  as  explained  in  the 
former  Lecture,  consists  in  an  appreciation  of  the 
influences  which  must  be  brought  to  bear  inten- 
tionally, consciously,  and  persistently  on  a  child, 
with  a  view  to  instruct  him  in  knowledge,  develope 
his  faculties,  and  train  them  to  the  formation  of 
habits.  It  was  shown  that  this  view  of  Education 
assumes  that  the  educator  must  himself  study  and 
comprehend  the  nature  of  these  influences;  and 
that  this  theoretical  study,  aided  by  the  lessons  of 
experience,  both  personal  and  that  of  others,  con- 
stitutes his  own  education. 

Assuming,  then,  the  education  of  the  educator 
himself,  which  involves  a  due  conception  of  the 
end  in  view,  we  have  now  to  consider  some  of  the 
means  by  which  he  has  to  realize  it,  and  this  con- 
stitutes the  Practice  or  Art  of  Education. 

I  have  already  disclaimed  the  idea  of  attempting 
to  construct  a  systematical  science  of  education, 
and  am  not  bound,  therefore,  to  deduce  a  systemat- 
ical art  from  a  theoretical  ideal.  Nor  is  this  neces- 
sary;  for  whatever  may  be  said  of  the  Theory, 
there  is  no  doubt  that  the  Art  of  Education  exists, 
and  that  its  fundamental  principles  can  be  evolved 
from  its  practice. 

75 


76  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

The  Art  of  Education,  strictly  considered,  in- 
volves all  the  means  by  which  the  educator  brings 
his  influence  to  bear  on  his  pupils,  and  embraces 
therefore,  organization,  discipline,  school  econo- 
mics, the  regulation  of  studies,  etc.  Our  limited 
space,  however,  forbids  our  entering  on  these  mat- 
ters, and  the  "  Art  of  Education  "  will  in  this  lec- 
ture be  considered  as  only  another  term  for  Teach- 
ing or  Instruction. 

If  we  observe  the  process  which  we  call  instruc- 
tion, we  see  two  parties  conjointly  engaged— the 
learner  and  the  teacher.  The  object  of  both  is  the 
same,  but  their  relations  to  the  work  to  be  done  are 
different.  Inasmuch  as  the  object  can  only  be  at- 
tained by  the  mental  action  of  the  learner,  by  his 
observing,  remembering,  etc.,  it  is  clear  that  what 
he  does,  not  what  the  teacher  does,  is  the  essential 
part  of  the  process.  This  essential  part,  the  ap- 
propriation and  assimilation  of  knowledge  by  the 
mind,  can  be  performed  by  no  one  but  the  learner ; 
for  the  teacher  can  no  more  think  for  his  pupil 
than  he  can  walk,  sleep,  or  digest  for  him.  It  is 
then,  on  the  exercise  of  the  pupil's  own  mind  that 
his  acquisition  of  knowledge  entirely  depends,  and 
ths  subjective  process,  performed  entirely  by  him- 
self, constitutes  the  pupil's  art  of  learning.  If, 
however,  every  act  by  which  ideas  from  without 
become  incorporated  with  the  pupil's  mind  in  an 
act  which  can  only  be  performed  by  the  pupil  him- 
self, it  follows  that  he  is  in  fact  his  own  teacher, 
and  we  arrive  at  the  general  proposition  that  learn- 
ing is  self -teaching.  This  psychological  principle 
is  of  cardinal  importance  in  the  art  of  education. 
We  see  at  once  that  it  defines  the  function  of  the 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  77 

teacher,  the  other  party  in  the  process  of  instruc- 
tion. It  appears,  from  what  has  been  just  said, 
that  the  only  indispensable  part  of  the  process — 
the  mental  act  by  which  knowledge  is  acquired — 
is  the  pupil's,  not  the  teacher's;  aud,  indeed,  that 
the  teacher  cannot,  if  he  would,  perform  it  for  the 
pupil.  On  the  other  hand,  the  experience  of  man- 
kind shows  that  the  pupil,  however  capable,  would 
not  generally  undertake  his  part  spontaneously, 
nor,  if  he  did,  carry  it  to  a  successful  issue.  The 
indispensable  part  of  the  process  cannot,  it  is  true, 
be  done  without  the  mental  exertion  of  the  pupil, 
but  it  is  equally  true  that  it  will  not  be  done  with- 
out the  action  and  influence  of  the  teacher  The 
teacher' 8  part  then  in  the  process  of  instruction  is 
that  of  a  guide,  director,  or  superintendent  of  the 
operations  by  which  the  pupil  teaches  himself'^ 

As  this  view  of  the  correlation  of  learning  and 
teaching  assumes  the  competency  of  the  pupil  to 
teach  himself,  it  may  of  course  be  theoretically  dis- 
puted. It  is  important  then,  to  add  that  the  child 
whom  the  teacher  takes  in  hand  has  already 
learned  or  taught  himself  a  great  number  of  things. 
He  has,  in  fact,  learned  the  use  of  his  senses,  the 
qualities  of  matter,  and  the  elements  of  his  mother- 
tongue,  without  the  aid  of  any  professed  teacher. 
The  faculties,  however,  by  the  use  of  which  he  has 


*"  To  teach  boys  to  how  instruct  themselves— that,  after  all,  is 
the  great  end  of  school-work."— mabkby. 

"The  object  of  all  education  is  to  teach  people  to  think  for 
themselves."—*'  University  ExtensioUy'*  an  Address  delivered  at 
the  request  of  the  Leeds  Ladies'  Educational  Association,  by- 
James  Stuart,  Fellow  and  Assistant  Tutor  of  Trinity  College, 
CJambridge. 


78  THE  SCIENCE  AND  AKT  OF  EDUCATION. 

made  these  acquisitions,  are  the  same  that  he  must 
employ  in  his  further  acquisitions,  when  the  action 
and  influence  of  natural  circumstances  are  super- 
seded by  those  of  the  professed  teacher. 

A  slight  review  of  the  operation  of  these  natural 
circumstances — which  we  may  for  convenience' 
sake  call  Nature — will  serve  to  suggest  some  of  the 
means  by  which  the  teacher,  as  a  superintendent  of 
the  pupil's  process  of  self -instruction,  is  to  exercise 
his  proper  action  and  influence. 

How,  then,  does  nature  teach  ?  She  furnishes 
knowledge  by  object-lessons,  and  she  trains  the  ac- 
tive powers  by  making  them  act.  She  has  given 
capability  of  action,  and  she  developes  this  capa- 
bihty  by  presenting  occasions  for  its  exercise.  She 
makes  her  pupil  learn  to  do  by  doing,  to  live  by 
living.  She  gives  him  no  grammar  of  seeing,  hear- 
ing, etc. ;  she  gives  no  compendiums  of  abstract 
principles.  She  would  stop  his  progress  at  the 
very  threshold,  if  she  did.  Action !  action !  is  her 
maxim  of  training ;  and  things !  things !  are  the  ob- 
jects of  her  lessons.  She  adopts  much  repetition  in 
her  teaching,  in  order  that  the  difficult  may  become 
easy,  ''  use  become  a  second  nature."  In  physical 
training,  *'use  legs  and  have  legs,"  is  one  of  her 
maxims,  and  she  acts  analogously  in  regard  to 
mental  and  moral  training.  She  teaches  quietly. 
She  does  not  continually  interrupt  her  pupil,  even 
when  he  blunders,  by  outcries  and  objurgations. 
She  bides  her  time,  and  by  prompting  him  to  con- 
tinued action,  and  inducing  him  to  think  about 
what  he  is  doing,  and  correct  his  errors  himself, 
makes  his  very  blunders  fruitful  in  instruction. 
She  does  not  anxiously  intervene  to  prevent  the 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  79 

consequence  of  his  actions ;  she  allows  him  to  ex- 
perience them,  that  he  may  learn  prudence;  some- 
times even  letting  him  burn  his  fingers,  that  he 
may  gain  at  once  a  significant  lesson  in  physics, 
and  also  the  moral  lesson  involved  in  the  ministry 
of  pain. 

These  are  some  of  the  features  of  Nature's  Art 
of  Education,  and  they  are  all  consistent  with  the 
assumption  that  throughout  her  course  of  instruc- 
tion the  pupil  is  teaching  himself. 

We  infer,  then,  from  these  considerations,  that 
the  child  whose  instruction  is  to  be  secured  by  the 
guidance  of  the  teacher  has  already  shown  his  ca- 
pacity to  learn,  and  to  learn,  moreover,  without  ex- 
planations. We  remark,  further,  that  an  accurate 
analysis  of  this  process  of  self -tuition,  based  on  the 
combined  observations  and  experiments  of  teachers, 
carefully  noted  and  compared  together,  and  gener- 
alized into  principles  of  education,  will,  no  doubt, 
in  time  to  come,  furnish  the  true  canons  of  the  art 
of  teaching,  or,  in  other  words,  that  the  pupil's 
subjective  process  of  learning,  when  thoroughly 
understood,  will  suggest,  with  proper  limitations, 
the  teacher's  counterpart  objective  process  of 
teaching. 

The  principle  I  am  contending  for — that  the  child 
is  capable  of  teaching  himself  without  explanations 
— is  indeed  very  generally  acknowledged  in  word 
by  teachers,  who  also  very  generally  repudiate  it  in 
fact.  They  allow  that  it  is  not  what  they  do  for 
their  pupil,  but  what  he  does  for  himself,  that 
gives  him  strength  and  independent  force ;  but  the 
multitude  of  directions,  precepts,  warnings,  exhor- 
tations, and  explanations,  with  which  they  bewil- 


80  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

der  and  enfeeble  him,  neutralizes  their  theoretical 
acknowledgment  of  the  principle.  Let  such  teach- 
ers say  what  they  will,  they  virtually  deny  the  pu- 
pil's native  capacity ;  they  act  on  the  belief  that  he 
cannot  learn  without  explanations,  and  especially 
without  their  explanations. 

This  question  of  the  necessity  of  explanations  is 
a  vital  point  in  our  argument,  and  needs  further 
discussion.  Explaining  is  '*  flattening,'^  or  **  mak- 
ing level,"  '^  clearing  the  ground  "  so  as  to  produce 
an  even  surface ;  and,  when  applied  to  teaching,  as 
generally  understood,  means  removing  obstructions 
out  of  the  way,  so  as  to  make  the  subject  clear  to 
the  pupil,  and  generally  to  do  this  by  verbal  dis- 
course. 

But  (1)  we  notice  that  Nature,  who  makes  her  pu- 
pil teach  himself,  gives  no  explanations  of  this  kind. 
She  does  not  explain  the  difference  between  hard 
and  soft  objects— she  says,  '^feel  them;"  between 
this  and  that  fact — she  says,  ^ 'place  them  side  by 
side,  and  mark  the  difference  yourself ;"  and  gener- 
ally she  says  to  her  pupil,  don't  ask  me  to  teU  you 
anything  that  you  can  find  out  for  yourself. 

(2)  The  question  of  explanations  essentially  in- 
volves those  of  the  order  of  studies  and  the  method 
of  teaching.  If  the  subject  is  unsuited  to  the  pupil's 
stage  of  instruction,  or  if,  instead  of  presenting  him 
with  facts  which  he  can  understand,  we  force  upon 
him  abstractions  which  he  cannot,  we  create  the 
need  for  explanations ;  and  in  this  case  it  is  not 
merely  probable,  but  certain,  that  most  of  them^ 
however  elaborate,  will  be  thrown  away.  We  are," 
in  fact,  calling  on  the  immature  faculties  for  an  ef- 
fort which  is  beyond  the  strength  of  the  trained 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  81 

intellect ;  for  the  man  has  never  lived  who  can  un- 
derstand an  abstract  general  proposition  while  ut- 
terly ignorant  of  the  facts  on  which  it  is  ultimately- 
founded.  But  supposing  that  we  admit  the  value 
of  explanations  generally,  and  that  the  explana- 
tions given  are  admirably  clear  in  themselves,  their 
value  to  the  individual  pupil  will  depend,  not  on 
their  absolute  excellence,  but  on  their  relation  to 
the  condition  of  his  mind.  Unless,  then,  the  teach- 
er has  well  studied  that  mind,  so  as  to  know  its  in- 
dividual history,  its  actual  condition,  and  its  needs, 
much  of  his  explanation  will  *'  waste  its  sweetness 
on  the  desert  air."  That  portion  only  will  be  re- 
ceived and  assimilated  for  which  the  previous  in- 
struction has  prepared  the  mind,  and  all  the  rest 
will  flow  away  and  leave  no  impression  whatever 
behind  it.  And,  in  general,  it  may  be  laid  down  as 
a  practical  principle  of  teaching,  that  long,  elabor- 
ate explanations  are  entirely  out  of  place  in  a  class 
of  children.  They  do  not  generally  quicken,  but 
rather  quell,  attention.  The  children,  indeed,  con- 
sider that,  though  it  may  be  the  teacher's  duty  to 
preach,  it  is  no  necessary  part  of  theirs  to  heed  the 
preaching.  This  work,  as  they  generally  take  it, 
is  the  proper  occasion  for  their  play ;  and  this  play, 
without  outward  manifestation,  may  be  going  on 
uproariously  in  that  inner  playground  where  the 
teacher  cannot  set  his  foot.  Eousseau,  in  his  inter- 
esting if  somewhat  romantic  "Emile,"  gives  the 
following  opinion  on  this  subject — I  adopt  Mr. 
Quick's  translation : — "I  do  not  at  all  admire  ex- 
planatory discourses ;  young  people  give  little  at- 
tention, and  never  retain  them.  Things!  things! 
I  can  never  enough  repeat  it,  that  we  make  words 


82  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

of  too  much  consequence.  With  our  prating  modes 
of  education,  we  make  nothing  but  praters.  " 

Now  in  these  cases  the  teacher  fails  because  he 
does  not  follow  Nature.  The  pupils  for  whom  he 
''clears  the  ground  "  would  have  cleared  it  them- 
selves if  he  had  known  how  to  direct  them,  and 
would  have  been  the  stronger  for  the  exercise. 

Having  thus  indicated  Nature's  art  of  teaching, 
as,  in  a  general  way,  the  archetype  of  the  educa- 
tor's, it  is  important  now  to  say  that  it  is  not  to  be 
implicitly  followed. 

(1.)  Nature's  teaching  is  desultory.  She  mingles 
lessons  in  physics,  language,  morality,  all  together. 
Her  main  business  seems  to  be  the  training  of  fa- 
culty, and  she  subordinates  to  this  the  orderly  ac- 
quisition of  knowledge  by  her  pupils.  W.e  are  to 
imitate  Nature  in  training  faculty,  but  with  a  de- 
finite aim  as  regards  subjects. 

(2)  Nature^  s  teaching  is  of  ten.  inaccurate  ;  not, 
however,  from  any  defect  in  her  method,  but  from 
inherited  defects  in  her  pupils.  If  she  has  not 
originally  given  a  sound  brain,  she  does  not  gener- 
ally herself  improve  upon  her  handiwork.  The  im- 
pressions received  by  a  feeble  brain  become  blurred, 
imperfect  conceptions,  and  Nature  often  leaves 
them  so.  It  is  the  educator's  business,  however, 
to  endeavor  to  improve  upon  her  labors, — to  ascer- 
tain the  original  fault,  and  by  apt  exercises  to 
amend  it. 

(3)  Nature^s  teaching  often  appears  to  he  overdone. 
She  gives  ten  thousand  exercises  to  develop 
faculty,  but  she  continues  to  give  them  when  that 
purpose  is  answered.    The  educator  is  to  imitate 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  83 

her  in  very  frequently  repeating  his  lessons,  but  to 
cease  when  the  object  is  gained. 

(4)  Nature  does  not  secure  the  results  of  her  les- 
sons with  a  direct  aim  to  mental  and  moral  im- 
provement. She  exercises  various  powers  to  a  cer- 
tain extent  and  with  certain  objects;  but  she  does 
not  prompt  to  their  improvement  beyond  this  point, 
nor  exercise  them  equally  upon  objects  unconnect- 
ed with  animal  wants  and  instincts.  We  are  to 
imitate  Nature  in  gaining  such  results  for  our  pu- 
pils as  she  gains,  but  we  are  to  go  beyond  her  in  se- 
curing these  results  as  a  means  to  the  attainment 
of  a  higher  platform  of  knowledge  and  power. 

(5)  Nature  accustoms  her  pupils  to  little,  and 
that  the  simplest,  generalization.  For  any  care 
that  she  takes,  the  materials  suitable  for  this  pro- 
cess may  remain  unquickened  throughout  the 
whole  of  a  man's  life.  The  educator  is  to  imitate 
Nature  in  prompting  his  pupils  to  generalize  on 
facts,  but  to  surpass  her  in  carrying  them  forward 
in  practice. 

(6)  Nature  is  relentless  in  her  discipline.  She 
takes  no  account  of  extenuating  circumstances. 
To  disobey  is  to  die.  She  not  only  punishes  the  of- 
fender for  his  own  offence,  but  often  makes  him 
suffer  for  the  offences  of  others.  She  involves  him 
in  all  the  consequences  of  his  actions,  and  often 
gives  him  no  opportunity  for  repentence.  The 
educator,  on  the  other  hand,  while  allowing  his  pu- 
pil to  be  visited  by  the  consequences  of  his  actions, 
is  to  prevent  ruinous  consequences — to  give  him 
room  for  repentence,  to  love  the  offender  while 
punishing  the  offence,  and  to  allow  for  extenuating 
circumstances. 


84  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDTTCATION. 

Nature's  teaching,  then,  while  in  general  the 
model  of  the  educator's,  requires  adaptation,  ex- 
tension, and  correction,  in  order  to  make  the  best 
of  it.  The  old  adage,  *'  Art  improves  Nature,"  ap- 
plies undoubtedly  to  the  art  of  education,  a  truth 
which  even  Pestalozzi — certainly  himself  a  choice 
specimen  of  Nature's  teaching,  a  head  boy  m  her 
school — failed,  as  we  shall  see,  to  appreciate. 

The  upshot  of  what  has  been  said  hitherto  is  this, 
that  the  natural  process  by  which  the  mind  ac- 
quires knowledge  and  power  is  a  process  of  self- 
education, — that  the  educator  should  recognize 
that  process  as  a  guide  to  his  practice,  suggesting 
both  what  he  should  aim  at  and  what  he  should 
avoid.  To  this  it  is  very  important  to  add,  that 
his  success  m  carrying  out  his  object  will  greatly 
depend  upon  his  being  furnished  with  the  resources 
of  his  science.  A  thousand  unforeseen  difficulties, 
arising  from  the  individual  personal  characteristics 
of  his  pupils,  will  occur  in  the  progress  of  his  work, 
and  demand  the  exercise  of  his  utmost  skill  and 
moral  courage  for  their  treatment.  It  is  here,  quite 
as  much  as  in  the  moral  action  of  the  ma- 
chinery that  he  is  directing,  that  the  value  of 
his  own  education  as  an  educator  will  be  found. 
It  is  the  *' unusual  circumstances"  referred  to 
by  Mr.  Grove,  that  call  for  that  *  "plasticity" — 
that  multiform  power  of  applying  principles, 
which  distinguishes  the  scientifically  trained  from 
the  routine  teacher. 

I  will  now  illustrate  my  subject  by  presenting 
two  typical  specimens  of  the  Art  of  Teaching.  In 
the  first  the  teacher  fully  recognizes  the  compet- 
ency of  his  pupils  to  learn,  or  teach  themselves 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  85 

without  any  explanations  whatev^er  from  him,  and 
accordingly  he  gives  them  none ;  at  the  same  time, 
however,  he  earnestly  employs  himself  in  directing 
the  forces  under  his  command,  and  sees  in  the  self- 
instruction  of  his  pupils  the  result  of  his  action  and 
influence.  In  the  second  instance  the  teacher  acts 
on  the  presumption  that  the  pupil's  success  depends 
rather  on  what  is  done  for  him  than  on  what  he 
does  for  himself. 

Suppose  that  the  object  be  to  give  a  lesson  on  a 
simple  machine — say  the  pile-driving  machine — in 
its  least  elaborate  form.  I  scarcely  need  say  that 
it  consists  of  two  strong  uprights,  well  fastened  in- 
to a  sohd,  broad  block  of  wood,  as  a  basis,  and  sup- 
plied with  two  thick  ropes,  one  on  each  side,  which 
are  laid  over  pulleys  at  the  top  of  the  uprights,  and 
employed  to  draw  up  a  heavy  mass  of  iron,  the  fall 
of  which  on  the  head  of  the  pile  drives  it  into  the 
earth.  Two  or  three  men  at  each  rope  supply  the 
motive  power. 

Let  a  large  working  model  of  the  machine  be  so 
placed  that  all  the  pupils  of  the  class  may  see  and 
have  access  to  it.  The  teacher's  object  is  to  make 
this  machine  the  means  of  communicating  knowl- 
edge and  of  drawing  forth  their  intellectual  powers. 
He  has  no  need  to  tell  them  to  look  at  it.  The  im- 
age of  it,  as  a  whole,  is  at  once  impressed  upon 
their  minds.  The  teacher  need  not  tax  his  ingenu- 
ity to  devise  methods  for  gaining  their  attention. 
Their  attention  is  already  on  the  full  stretch.  Their 
curiosity  is  largely  excited — their  eyes  wide  open, 
and  "unsatisfied  with  seeing."— -"What  can  it  be  ? 
What  will  it  do  ?"  He  tells  them  the  purpose  of  it, 
and  nothing  more, — "  It  is  a  contrivance  for  driv- 


86  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

ing  piles  into  the  ground."    They  are  eager  to  see 
it  in  action. 

It  is  now  at  rest,  the  weight  resting  on  the  head 
of  the  pile.  The  teacher  directs  two  of  the  children, 
one  on  each  side,  to  lay  hold  of  the  ropes  and  pull 
up  the  weight,  telling  the  clas^  that  the  weight  is 
called  a  monkey — a  fact  which  they  will  certainly 
remember.  [Names  and  conventionalities  which 
they  cannot  find  out  for  themselves,  he  must,  of 
course,  tell  them ;  but  telling  of  this  kind  is  not  ex- 
planation.] Well,  the  monkey  is  drawn  up  gradu- 
ally until  the  clutch  relaxes  its  hold,  and  down  it 
falls,  to  their  immense  delight.  This  is  the  first  ex- 
periment. Let  all  the  children  try  it— all  pull  up 
the  weight  with  their  own  hands,  and  gain  an  idea, 
by  personal,  mdividual  experience,  of  the  resist 
ence  of  the  weight.  This  experience  involves  mus- 
cular sensibility,  sensation,  and  a  rudimentary  no- 
tion of  force.  The  children  by  this  time,  have  an 
idea  of  the  machine,  and  begin  to  conceive  the  re- 
lation between  the  end  and  the  means—between 
the  problem  to  be  solved  and  the  means  of  solving 
it.  The  pile  evidently  gives  way  under  the  repeat- 
ed blows  of  the  monkey.  Let  the  monkey  be 
weighed,  and  another  substituted  heavier  or  light- 
er. What  is  the  result  now  ?  Use  the  measuring 
scale  to  see  exactly  how  much  the  pile  moves  under 
the  different  weights.  Why  are  the  results  differ- 
ent ?  [These  mechanical  acts  of  weighing  and 
measuring  exactly  are  not  be  depised ;  they  are 
fraught  with  practical  instruction.]  Next,  let  the 
height  from  which  the  weight  falls  be  gradually 
varied,  until  there  is  no  height^  and  the  weight 
merely  rests  on  the  head  of  the  pile,  as  at  first. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  87 

What  is  gained  by  the  motion  of  the  weight  ?  Try 
the  experiment  many  times — weigh,  measure, 
judge.  When  is  weight  acting  alone  ?— when  alone 
with  motion  ?  The  children  form  a  conception  for 
themselves  of  momentum ;  and  when  the  thing  is 
understood  the  technical  name  may  be  given. 
Next,  let  the  weight  be  detached  and  placed  on  an 
inclined  plane— a  slanting  board.  Why  does  it 
move  now  less  easily  than  it  did  when  it  was  free  ? 
Alter  the  inclination ;  try  all  the  possible  varieties 
of  slope.  When  is  the  motion  easiest  ?  The  pupils 
gain  the  idea  of  friction^  and  may  have  the  name 
given  them.  Let  the  clutch  be  examined.  How 
does  it  act  ?  Why  hold  the  weight  so  firmly  at  one 
moment,  and  let  it  go  the  next  ?  Try  the  experi- 
ment, handle  it,  attach  it  to  the  weight  ?  Does  it 
hold  the  ^Qigh-t  firmly  f  Why  does  it  let  the  weight 
go  at  the  right  moment  ?  Again,  suppose  the 
weight  were  made  of  wood,  lead,  putty,  etc.,  in- 
stead of  iron.  Try  these  substances  for  the  weight. 
Wliy  are  they  less  suitable  for  the  purpose  than 
iron  ? 

Attach  weights  to  the  ropes,  and  see  whether 
they  may  be  so  contrived  as  to  supersede  the  manu- 
al labor.  What  are  the  diflaculties  in  doing  this  ? 
Can  they  be  overcome  ?  What  is  the  use  of  the 
pulleys  ?  Eemove  them,  and  pull  at  the  ropes  with- 
out them.  What  difference  is  there  now  in  the 
ease  of  motion. 

Could  any  one  devise  another  machine  for  driv- 
ing piles,  or  any  other  contrivance  for  doing  the 
work  of  this,  better  ?  Let  every  one  think  of  this 
before  the  next  lesson,  and  bring  his  model  with 
him.    The  teacher  sums  up  the  results  of  the  les- 


88  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

son,  and  tells  the  pupils  to  write  them  down  before 
him.  He  examines  their  papers,  and  makes  them 
correct  the  blunders  themselves.  The  lesson  is  con- 
cluded. 

Now  in  this  lesson  we  have  a  typical  specimen  of 
the  self -teaching  of  the  pupils  under  the  superin- 
tendence of  the  teacher.  If  teaching  means,  as 
stated  in  books  on  the  subject,  the  communication 
of  knowledge  by  the  explanations  of  the  teacher, 
he  has  taught  them  nothing.  Of  that  kind  of 
teaching  which  Mr.  Wilson  of  Eugby  calls  **the 
most  stupid  and  most  didactic  '' — ^meaning  that  the 
most  didactic  is  the  most  stupid — ^we  have  here  not 
a  trace.  The  teacher  has  recognized  his  true  func- 
tion as  simply  a  director  of  the  mental  machinery 
which  is,  in  fact,  to  do  all  the  work  itself ;  for  it  is 
not  he,  but  his  pupils,  that  have  to  learn,  and  to 
learn  by  the  exercise  of  their  own  minds.  He  has 
constituted  himself,  therefore,  as  (if  the  expression 
may  be  pardoned)  a  sort  of  outside  will  and  mind, 
to  act  on  and  co-operate  with  the  wills  and  minds 
of  his  pupils.  He  is  the  primum  mobile  which  sets 
the  machinery  in  motion,  and  maintains  and  re- 
gulates the  motion ;  but  the  work  that  it  does,  the 
results  that  it  gains,  are  not  his  work  nor  his  re- 
sults, but  the  machinery's.  In  the  case  of  the  hu- 
man machinery — the  children's  minds,  which  are 
not  dead  matter,  but  living  organisms — he  has  had 
to  supply  motives  to  action,  sympathy  and  encour- 
agement— to  apply,  indeed  all  the  resources  of  his 
science.  But  still  he  is  simply  the  superintendent 
or  director  of  the  operations  which  constitute  the 
learning  or  self -teaching  of  the  pupils ;  and  the  in- 
trusion of  those  explanations,  which  some  consider 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  89 

the  essence  of  teaching,  would  have  hindered  and 
frustrated  the  efficiency  of  those  operations.  For, 
in  the  case  before  us,  why  should  he  explain,  and 
what  has  he  to  explain  ?  The  machine  is  its  own 
interpreter.  It  answers  those  who  interrogate  it 
in  the  emphatic  and  eloquent  language  of  facts — 
a  language  which  the  children  understand  without 
explanations ;  and  it  practises  them  abundantly  in 
what  Prof essor  Huxley  aptly  calls  the  "logic  of 
experiment;"  and  if  it  says  nothing  about  abstrac- 
tions and  first  principles,  which  they  could  not 
comprehend,  it  lays  before  them  the  proper  ground- 
work for  these  mental  deductions,  ready  for  the 
superstructure  of  science  when  the  proper  time 
comes.  And  until  this  groundwork  of  facts  is 
laid,  the  teacher  may  strain  his  mind  and  break 
his  heart  in  his  anxiety  to  give  explanations.  In 
fact,  none  that  he  can  give  will  be  equal  in  value 
to  those  given  silently,  powerfully,  and  effectually 
by  the  machine  itself .  It  is  clear,  then,  that  no- 
thing would  be  gained  by  his  explanations,  and  that 
they  are  therefore  unnecessary. 

Without  dwelling  now  on  all  the  points  of  in- 
terest contained  in  the  lesson  that  I  have  described, 
which  will  be  summarized  hereafter,  I  invite  atten- 
tion especially  to  two  or  three. 

(1)  We  notice  the  pleasurable  feeling  of  the  chil- 
dren thus  actively  engaged  in  the  free  exercise  of 
their  own  powers — seeing,  handhng,  experiment- 
ing, discovering,  investigating,  and  inventing  for 
themselves.  This  feeling  will,  by  the  necessary 
laws  of  association,  always  accompany  the  re- 
membrance of  the  lesson.  Is  not  this  in  itself  an 
immense  gain  both  for  teacher  and  pupils  ? 


90  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

(2)  But  there  is  another  very  important  gain  for 
the  pupils  thus  educating  themselves.  It  is  an  ap- 
proved principle  of  the  science  of  education,  that 
it  should  be  the  aim  of  the  educator  not  merely  to 
train  faculty,  but  to  induce  in  his  pupils  the  power 
of  exercising  it  without  his  aid — ^in  other  words,  to 
make  the  pupils  independent  of  the  teacher.  Now 
as,  in  the  case  before  us,  the  children  have  gained 
their  knowledge  by  the  exercise  of  their  own  facul- 
ties—have observed,  experimented,  etc.,  for  them- 
selves ;  they  cannot  but  have  gained  a  rudimentary 
consciousness  that  they  could,  without  the  teacher, 
go  through  the  same  process  in  acquiring  the 
knowledge  of  another  machine.  The  conscious- 
ness of  power,  may,  as  I  have  said,  be,  at  the 
end  of  the  first  lesson,  merely  rudimentary ;  but 
it  will  gain  strength  as  they  proceed,  and  the  final 
result  of  such  teaching  will  be  that  they  will  ac- 
quire the  valuable  habit  of  independent  mental 
self-direction.  An  eminent  French  teacher  used 
to  be  laughed  at  for  saying  that  he  was  continually 
aiming  to  make  himself  useless  to  his  pupils.  The 
silly  laughers  thought  that  he  had  made  a  blunder, 
and  meant  to  say— useful.  But  they  were  the 
blunderers. 

(3)  It  is  a  noticeable  point  in  the  process  described 
that  it  led  the  children  to  discover,  investigate,  and 
invent  on  their  own  account.  They  were  continu- 
ally conscious  of  the  pleasure  of  finding  things  out 
for  themselves.  They  were  continually  making  ad- 
vances, however  feeble,  in  the  very  path  that  the 
first  discoverers  of  knowledge  of  the  same  kind, 
and  indeed  of  every  kind,  had  trod  before  them. 
Though  only  Httle   children,    they   were   uncon- 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  91 

sciously  adopting  the  method  of  the  scientific  in- 
vestigator, and  becoming  trained,  though  as  yet 
but  very  imperfectly,  in  his  spirit.  Should  they 
subsequently  give  themselves  up  to  scientific  in- 
quiry, they  will  not  change  their  method,  for  it 
is  even  now  essentially  that  of  scientific  investiga- 
tion. The  value  of  this  plan  of  learning  is  aptly 
pointed  out  in  a  well-known  passage  from  Burke's 
essay  on  *'The  Sublime  and  Beautiful."  *'I  am 
convinced,"  he  says,  *^that  the  method  of  teach- 
ing [or  learning]  which  approaches  most  nearly 
to  the  method  of  investigation,  is  incomparably  the 
best ;  since,  not  content  with  serving  up  a  few  bar- 
ren and  lifeless  truths  [such  as  abstractions,  general 
propositions,  formulae,  &:c.],  it  leads  to  the  stock 
on  which  they  grew ;  it  tends  to  set  the  reader  [or 
learner]  himself  on  the  track  of  invention,  and  to 
direct  him  into  those  paths  in  which  the  author  [or 
scientific  investigator]  has  made  his  own  dis- 
coveries." It  is  obvious  that  our  children,  en- 
gaged in  investigating  and  discovering  for  them- 
selves, were  precisely  in  the  position,  with  regard 
to  their  subject,  which  is  described  in  these  words. 
But  their  native  inventive  faculty  was  also  exer- 
cised. They  would  be  sure,  before  the  next  lesson, 
to  take  the  hint  given  them  by  the  teacher,  and 
would  be  ready  with  various  contrivances  for 
modifying  the  pile-driving  machine.  When  I  say 
this  I  speak  from  experience,  not  conjecture.  I 
have  myself,  when  engaged  in  reading  a  simple 
narrative  with  a  class  of  children,  and  meeting 
with  a  reference  to  some  gate  to  be  burst  open  by 
mechanical  means,  or  some  bridge  to  be  extem- 
porized  in   a   difficult    emergency,    simply   said. 


92  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

*'Try  to  invent  a  contrivance  for  accomplishing 
these  objects,  and  show  me  to-morrow  your  notions 
by  a  drawing  and  description,"  and  have  never 
failed  to  receive  a  number  of  rude  skeches  of 
schemes  more  or  less  suited  to  the  purpose,  but  all 
showing  the  intense  interest  excited  by  the  devotion 
of  their  minds  to  the  object.  I  am  persuaded  that 
teachers  generally  overlook  half  the  powers  latent 
in  the  minds  of  their  pupils ;  they  do  not  credit 
children  with  the  possession  of  them,  and  there- 
fore fail  to  call  them  out.  An  instructive  instance 
of  a  different  mode  of  proceeding  is  furnished  by 
the  experience  of  Professor  Tyndall,  when  he  was 
a  teacher  in  Queenwood  School,  The  quotation  is 
rather  long,  but  it  is  too  valuable  to  be  omitted. 
**One  of  the  duties,"  he  says,  in  his  Lecture  at  the 
Eoyal  Institution,  On  the  Study  of  Physics  as  a 
branch  of  Education,  '*was  the  instruction  of  a 
class  in  mathematics,  and  I  usually  found  that 
Euclid,  and  the  ancient  geometry  generallj^,  when 
addressed  to  the  understanding,  formed  a  very  at- 
tractive study  for  youth.  But  [mark  the  hut  /]  it 
was  my  habitual  practice  to  withdraw  the  boys 
from  the  routine  of  the  book,  and  to  appeal  to  their 
self-power  in  the  treatment  of  the  questions  not 
comprehended  in  that  routine.  At  first,  the  change 
from  the  beaten  track  usually  excited  a  little  aver- 
sion; the  youth  felt  like  a  child  among  strangers; 
but  in  no  single  instance  have  I  found  this  aversion 
to  continue.  When  utterly  disheartened,  I  have 
encouraged  the  boy  by  that  anecdote  of  Newton, 
where  he  attributes  the  difference  between  him  and 
other  men  mainly  to  his  own  patience ;  or  of  Mira- 
beau,  when  he  ordered  his  servant,  who  had  stated 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  93 

something  to  be  impossible,  never  to  use  that  stupid 
word  again.  Thus  cheered,  he  has  returned  to  his 
task  with  a  smile,  which  perhaps  had  something  of 
doubt  in  it,  but  which  nevertheless  evinced  a  re- 
solution to  try  again.  I  have  seen  the  boy's  eye 
brighten,  and  at  length,  with  a  pleasure  of  which 
the  ecstacy  of  Archimedes  was  but  a  simple  ex- 
pansion, heard  him  exclaim,  *  I  have  it,  Sir  !'  The 
consciousness  of  self -power  thus  awakened  was  of 
immense  value ;  and  animated  by  it,  the  progress 
of  the  class  was  truly  astonishing.  It  was  often 
my  custom  to  give  the  boys  their  choice  of  pursuing 
their  propositions  in  the  book,  or  of  trying  their 
strength  at  others  not  found  there.  Never  in  a 
single  instance  have  I  known  the  book  to  be  chosen. 
I  was  ever  ready  to  assist  when  I  deemed  help 
needful,  but  my  offers  of  assistance  were  habitu- 
ally decHned.  The  boys  had  tasted  the  sweets  of  in- 
tellectual conquest,  and  demanded  victories  of  their 
own.  I  have  seen  their  diagrams  scratched  on  the 
walls,  cut  into  the  beams  of  the  play-ground,  and 
numberless  other  illustrations  of  the  living  interest 

they  took  in  the  subject The 

experiment  was  successful,  and  some  of  the  most 
delightful  hours  of  my  existence  have  been  spent 
in  marking  the  vigorous  and  cheerful  expansion  of 
mental  power  when  appealed  to  in  the  manner  I 
have  described."  This  is  indeed  a  striking  illustra- 
tion of  the  true  art  of  teaching,  as  consisting  in  the 
mental  and  moral  direction  of  the  pupil's  self -edu- 
cation ;  and  the  result,  every  one  can  see,  was  the 
acquisition  of  something  far  more  valuable  than 
the  knowledge  of  geometry.  They  gained,  as  an 
acquisition  for  life,  a  knowledge  of  themselves,  a 


94  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

consciousness  of  both  mental  and  moral  power, 
which  all  the  didactic  teaching  in  the  world  could 
never  have  given  them.  All  teachers  should  learn, 
and  practice,  the  lesson  conveyed  by  such  an  ex- 
ample of  teaching  as  this. 

Now,  taking  the  former  instance  as  a  typical 
specimen  of  the  art  of  teaching,  let  us  consider 
what  is  involved  in  it,  and  gather  from  it  a  con- 
firmation of  the  views  already  given  of  the  relation 
of  the  educator  to  his  pupil,  of  the  Science  of  Edu- 
cation of  the  Art. 

We  see  (1)  that  the  pupil,  teaching  himself  imder 
the  direction  of  the  educator,  begins  with  tangible 
and  concrete  facts  which  he  can  comprehend,  not 
with  abstract  principles  which  he  cannot.  He  sees, 
handles,  experiments  upon  the  machine;  observes 
what  it  is,  what  it  does,  draws  his  own  conclu- 
sions; and  thus  healthfully  exercises  his  senses, 
his  powers  of  observation,  his  judgment ;  and  pre- 
pares himself  for  understanding,  at  the  proper  time, 
general  propositions  founded  on  the  knowledge  that 
he  has  acquired. 

(2)  That,  in  teaching  himself — in  gaining  his 
knowledge— he  employs  a  method,  the  analytical, 
which  lies  in  his  own  power,  not  the  synthetical, 
which  would  require  the  teacher's  explanations 
yet  that  he  employs  also  the  synthetical,  when 
called  on  to  exercise  his  combining  and  construc- 
tive faculty.  He  employs  the  analytical  method 
in  resolving  the  machine  into  its  parts,  its  actions 
into  their  several  constituents  and  means,  and  the 
synthetical  when  he  uses  the  knowledge  thus  gained 
for  interpreting  other  parts  and  actions  of  the  ma- 
chine, and  when  he  applies  this  knowledge  to  the 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  95 

invention  of  other  contrivances  not  actually  con- 
templated by  the  machine-maker. 

(3)  That,  in  being  made  a  discoverer  and  explorer 
on  his  own  account,  and  not  merely  a  passive  re- 
cipient of  the  results  of  other  people's  discoveries, 
he  not  only  gains  mental  power,  but  finds  a  pleasure 
in  the  discoveries  made  by  himself,  which  he  could 
not  find  in  those  made  by  others. 

(4)  That  in  teaching  himself,  instead  of  being 
taught  by  the  explanations  of  the  teacher,  he  pro- 
ceeds, and  can  only  proceed,  in  exact  proportion  to 
his  strength,  gaining  increased  knowledge  just  at 
the  time  that  he  wants  it  -at  the  very  moment 
when  the  increment  will  naturally  become,  to  use 
a  happy  expression  of  Mr. '  Fitch,  * '  incorporated 
with  the  organic  life  of  his  mind."  It  is  needless 
to  add,  that  he  advances,  in  this  self -teaching,  from 
the  known  to  the  unknown,  for  the  process  he  em- 
ploys leaves  no  other  course  open  to  him. 

(5)  That,  in  teaching  himself  in  this  way,  he 
learns  to  reason  both  on  the  relation  of  facts  and 
the  relation  of  ideas  to  each  other ;  and  that  thus 
the  "  logic  of  experiment "  leads  him  to  the  logic 
of  thought. 

(6)  That,  in  this  process  of  self-teaching,  he  ac- 
quires a  fund  of  knowledge  and  of  mental  con- 
ceptions, which,  by  the  natural  association  of 
ideas,  forois  the  groundwork  or  nucleus  to  which 
other  knowledge  and  other  conceptions  of  the  same 
kind  will  subsequently  attach  themselves ;  the  ma- 
chine which  he  knows,  becoming  a  sort  of  alphabet 
of  mechanics,  by  meaus  of  which  he  will  be  able 
to  read  and  understand,  in  some  degree,  other  ma- 
chines. 


96  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

(7)  That  the  knowledge,  thus  gained  by  the  ac- 
tion of  his  own  mind,  will  be  clear  and  accurate, 
as  far  as  it  goes,  because  it  has  been  gained  by  his 
own  powers.  He  may,  indeed,  have  to  modify  his 
first  notions ;  to  acknowledge  to  himself  that  his  ob- 
servations were  imperfect,  his  conclusions  hasty; 
but  if  not  interfered  with  by  unseasonable  meddling 
from  without,  his  mind  will  correct  its  own  aberra- 
tions, and  be  much  the  stronger  for  being  required 
to  do  this  itself.  (You  will  remember  Professor 
Tyndall's  experience  in  teaching  geometry.) 

(8)  That,  by  teaching  himself  in  this  special  case, 
he  is  on  the  way  to  acquire  the  power  of  teaching 
himself  generally,  to  gain  the  habit  of  mental  self 
direction,  of  self  power,  the  very  end  and  consum- 
mation of  the  educator's  art. 

In  order  to  illustrate  my  point  still  more  clearly, 
by  force  of  contrast,  I  will  give  a  sketch  of  another 
mode  of  teaching,  very  commonly  known  in  schools, 
taking  the  same  subject  for  the  lesson  as  before. 

The  teacher,  whose  operations  we  are  now  to  ob- 
serve, has  a  notion— a  very  common  one — that  as 
rules  and  general  principles  are  compendious  ex- 
pressions representing  many  facts,  he  can  econo- 
mise time  and  labour  by  commencing  with  them. 
They  are  so  pregnant  and  comprehensive,  he  thinks, 
that  if  (your  if  is  a  great  peace-maker)  he  can  but 
get  his  pupils  to  digest  them,  they  will  have  gained 
much  knowledge  in  a  short  time.  This  remarkable 
educational  fallacy  I  have  already  referred  to.  Our 
teacher,  however  (not  knowing  the  science  of  edu- 
cation, which  refutes  it),  assumes  its  truth,  takes 
up  a  book  (a  great  mistake  to  begin  with,  to  teach 
science  from  a  book  !),  and,  in  order  to  be  quite  in 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  97 

from  (scientific  form  being  the  very  opposite  to 
this),  reads  out  from  it  a  definition  of  a  machine: 
'^A  machine  is  an  artificial  work  which  serves  to 
apply  or  regulate  moving  power;"  or  another  to 
the  same  effect:  ^*A  machine  is  an  instrument 
formed  by  two  or  three  of  the  mechanical  powers, 
in  order  to  augment  or  regulate  force  or  motion." 
Now,  the  men  who  wrote  these  definitions  were 
scientific  men,  already  acquainted  with  the  whole 
subject  and  they  simamed  up  in  these  few  words 
the  net  result  of  their  observation  of  a  great  num- 
ber of  machines,  so  as  logically  to  differentiate  a 
machine  from  everything  else.  Their  definitions 
were  intended  for  the  mature  minds  of  students 
of  science,  and  were  therefore  framed  in  a  scientific 
manner.  This  logical  arrangement  is,  however,  the 
very  opposite  to  that  in  which  the  science  was  his- 
torically developed,  and  which  is  the  only  one  pos- 
sible for  the  child  who  teaches  himself.  Our  teacher, 
uninformed  in  the  science  of  education  which  dis- 
poses of  this  and  so  many  other  questions  belong- 
ing to  the  art,  implicitly  follows  the  good  old  way, 
and  reads  out,  as  I  have  said,  the  definition  of  a 
machine.  The  pupils,  who  are  quite  disposed  to 
learn  whatever  really  interests  them,  listen  at- 
tentively, but  not  kujwing  anything  about  "mov- 
ing power"  or  ** force,"  nor  what  is  meant  by  aug- 
menting or  regulating  it,  nor  what  *' mechanical 
powers  "  are,  at  once  perceive  that  this  is  a  matter 
which  does  not  concern  them,  and  very  sensibly 
turn  their  minds  in  another  direction.  The  vivid 
curiosity  and  sympathy  manifested  in  the  other 
instance  are  wanting  here.  These  pupils  have  no 
curiosity  about  the  entirely  unknown,  and  no  sym- 


98  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

pathy  with  the  teacher  who  presents  them  with  the 
entirely  unintelligible.  The  teacher  perceives  this, 
and  endeavours  to  **  clear  the  ground,"  evidently 
filled  with  stumbling-blocks  and  brambles,  by  an 
explanation: — "A  machine,"  he  says,  (no  machine 
being  in  sight)  *'is  an  artificial  work,  that  is,  a 
work  made  by  art."  (Boy,  really  anxious  to  learn 
something  if  he  can,  thinks,  "What  is  art?"  He 
has  heard,  perhaps,  of  the  art  of  painting,  but  what 
has  a  machine  to  do  with  painting  ?)  The  teacher 
proceeds:  *'A  machine  you  see  [the  children  see 
nothing]  is  an  artificial  work  (that  is,  a  work  made 
by  art),  which  serves  to  apply,  augment  (that 
is,  add  to)  and  regulate  (that  is,  direct)  moving 
force  or  power ;  you  know  what  that  is  of  course — 
[The  teacher  instinctively  avoids  explaining  the 
mechanical  force  of  a  mere  idea]— by  combining 
or  putting  together  two  or  more  of  the  mechanical 
powers — that  is,  levers,  pulleys,  &c. — I  need  not 
explain  these  common  words,  everybody  knows 
what  they  mean; — so  now  you  see  what  a  machine 
is.  What  is  a  machine  ?"  A.  B.  answers,  "  A  ma- 
chine is  a  moving  power."  CD.,  "  It  is  something 
which  adds  force."  *' Adds  force  to  what  ?"  C.  D. 
still,  '  *  to  pulleys  and  1  overs. "  *  *  How  stupid  you  all 
are  !"  groans  out  the  teacher,  "there  is  no  teaching 
you  anything  !"  At  that  moment,  E.  F.,  a  prac- 
tical boy,  gets  a  glimmering  of  tne  truth,  and  says, 
"  A  steam  engine  is  a  machine."  This  is  an  effort 
of  the  boy  to  dash  through  the  entanglement  of  the 
words,  and  make  his  way  up  to  the  facts.  The 
teacher,  however,  at  once  throws  him  back  again 
into  the  meshes,  by  saying,  "Well,  then,  apply  the 
definition."    Boy  replies,  "  I  don't  understand  the 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  99 

definition."  *'Not  understand  the  definition  ! 
Why,  I  have  explained  every  word  of  it ;  and  so 
on.  He  reads  the  definition  again,  questions  his 
pupils  again  upon  it  with  the  same  result.  He  per- 
ceives that  he  has  failed  altogether  in  his  ohject. 
all  his  explanations,  which  have  heen  nothing  more 
than  explanations  of  words,  not  of  things  (a  very 
common  error  in  teaching)  have  failed  to  *' clear 
the  ground,"  which  remains  as  full  of  stumhling- 
hlocks  and  brambles  as  ever.  A  bright  thought 
thought  strikes  him.  He  introduces  a  picture  of  a 
machine— say  of  the  pile-driving  machine — (not  the 
machine  itself),  and  a  considerable  enlightenment 
of  the  darkness  at  once  takes  place.  There  is  now 
something  visible,  if  not  tangible.  Curiosity  and 
sympathy  are  awakened,  and  some  of  the  ends  of 
teaching  are  secured,  and  more  would  be  secured 
but  that  the  teacher  still  confines  himself  to  read- 
ing from  his  book  a  description  of  the  machine, 
though  he  occasionally  interpolates  explanations  of 
the  technical  words  that  occur.  But  the  picture  is, 
after  all,  a  dead  thing ;  all  its  parts  are  in  repose  or 
equilibrium ;  and  the  pupils,  after  giving  their  best 
attention  to  it,  see  in  it  scarcely  any  illustration  of 
the  terms  of  the  definition  through  which  they 
have  labored  so  painfully.  The  pictured  machine 
represents  ''  moving  power"  by  not  moving  at  all, 
and  *' force"  by  doing  nothing,  while  it  leaves  the 
"mechanical  powers"  an  entirely  unsolved  mys- 
tery. They  depart  from  the  lesson  with  a  number 
of  confused  notions  of  "moving  power,"  ** aug- 
mentation of  force,"  "mechanical  powers,"  "pile- 
driving,"  "monkey?,"  and  "clutches,"  while  the 
mental  discipline  they  have  acquired  is  an  absolute 


100  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

nullity.  Their  minds  have  indeed  never  cnce  been 
brought  into  direct  vital  contact  with  the  matter 
they  were  to  learn.  The  thing  itself,  the  machine, 
has  been  withheld  from  them ;  nothing  but  a  repre- 
sentation, possibly  a  misrepresentation,  of  it,  has 
been  seen,  at  a  distance,  in  a  state  of  dead  repose. 
Instead,  therefore,  of  observing  themselves  its 
action^  they  have  been  told  what  somebody  else  has 
observed;  instead  of  trying  experiments  upon  it 
with  their  own  hands,  they  have  been  treated  with 
a  description  of  somebody  else's  experiments  ;  in- 
stead of  being  required  to  form  a  judgment  of  their 
own  on  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect,  as  seen  in 
the  action  and  re-action  of  forces,  they  have  been 
made  acquainted  with  the  judgments  of  others, 
and  the  general  result  of  the  whole  lesson  probably 
is,  that  while  they  have  been,  no  doubt,  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  learning  and  science  of  their 
teacher  (and  especially  of  his  book),  they  have  left 
the  class  still  more  deeply  impressed  with  the 
determination  that,  if  this  is  science,  they  will 
have  as  little  as  possible  to  do  with  it.* 

Now  the  teacher,  in  this  case,  may  be  credited 
with  earnestness,  zeal,  industry,  knowledge  of 
his  subject  (though  he  had  better  have  thrown 
away  his  book,)  with  all  the  knowledge  in  short 
that  gees  to  the  making  of  a  teacher,  except  (but 
the  exception  is  rather  important)  a  kuowledge  of 
the  art  of  teaching. 

*  "  There  is  no  use,  educationally,  in  telling  you  simply  the  re- 
sults to  which  I  have  come.  But  the  true  method  of  education  is 
to  show  you  a  road,  by  pursuing  which  you  cannot  help  arriving 
at  these  results  for  yourselves."—*'  Unvoersity  Extension"  iibi 
supra. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATJEGJ^.  101 

These  specimens  of  the  art  of  teaching  stfikingly 
illustrate  the  principles  before  insisted  on.  It  has 
been  maintained  that  there  is  an  inherent  capacity 
in  the  child  who  has  taught  himself  to  speak  and 
walk,  to  teach  himself  other  things,  provided  that 
they  are  things  of  the  same  kind  as  he  has  learnt 
already.  Now  all  children,  not  being  born  idiots, 
are  capable  of  taking  part  in  such  a  lesson  as  I 
have  described— can  employ  their  senses  upon  the 
concrete  matter  of  the  machine,  observe  its  pheno- 
mena, make  experiments  themselves  with  it,  and 
gain  more  or  less  knowledge  by  this  active  employ- 
ment of  their  minds  upon  it.  And  the  same  would 
be  true  of  lessons  on  other  concrete  matter — on 
flowers,  stones,  animals,  etc.  In  fact,  these  chil- 
dren have  been  taught  all  their  lives  by  contact 
with  concrete  matter  in  some  shape  or  other,  and 
the  teacher  who  understands  his  science  will  see 
that  there  is  no  other  possible  path  to  the  abstract. 
It  is  obvious,  then,  that  rudimentary  lessons  on  the 
properties  of  matter,  in  continuation  of  those 
already  received  from  natural  circumstances, 
should  constitute  the  earhest  instruction  of  a  child ; 
and  our  typical  lesson  conclusively  shows  that  such 
instruction  is  attainable,  and  most  valuable,  not 
only  for  its  own  sake,  but  with  a  view  to  mental 
development. 

It  is  also  shown  that  when  the  subject  of  instruc- 
tion is  judiciously  chosen,  the  pupil  needs  no  verbal 
explanations.  The  lesson  in  question  is  a  specimen 
ol  teaching  in  which,  in  accordance  with  the 
theory  with  which  we  set  out,  all  the  work  on 
which  the  mental  acquisition  depends  is  absolutely 
and  solely  done  by  the  pupil,  while  the  teacher^ s  ac- 


,102  THJ3  ^CijENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

tioii  and  influence,  which  originate  and  maintain 
the  pupil's  work  is  confined  to  guidance  and  super- 
intendence. 

Many  arguments  might  be  adduced  to  show  that 
the  principle,  that  the  main  business  of  the  teacher 
is  to  get  the  pupil  to  teach  himself  lies  at  the  basis 
of  the  entire  art  of  instruction.  The  teacher  who,  by 
whatever  means,  secures  this  object,  is  an  efficient 
artist ;  he  who  fails  in  this  point,  fails  altogether  ; 
and  the  various  grades  of  efficiency  are  defined  by 
the  degree  of  approximation  to  this  standard.* 

The  principle  itself  is  recognised  unconsciously 
in  the  practice  of  all  the  best  teachers.  Such 
teachers,  while  earnestly  intent  on  the  process  by 
which  the  pupils  are  instructing  themselves,  gen- 
erally say  little  during  the  lesson,  and  that  little  is 
usually  confined  to  direction.  Arnold  scarcely 
ever  gave  an  explanation  ;  and  if  he  did,  it  was 
given  as  a  sort  of  reward  for  some  special  effort  of 


*  "All  the  best  cultivation  of  the  child's  mind,"  says  Dr.  Temple, 
*•  is  obtained  by  the  child's  own  exertions,  and  the  master's  suc- 
cess may  be  measured  by  the  degree  in  which  he  can  bring  his 
scholars  to  make  such  exertions  absolutely  without  aid." 

*' That  diviDO  and  beautiful  thing  called  teaching ;  that  ex- 
cellent power  whereby  we  are  enabled  to  help  people  to  think  for 
themselves;  encouraging  them  to  endeavors,  by  dexterously 
guiding  those  endeavors  to  success;  turning  them  from  their 
error  just  when,  and  no  sooner  than,  their  error  has  thrown  a 
luminousness  upon  that  which  caused  it ;  carefully  leading  them 
into  typical  diflSculties,  of  which  the  very  path  we  lead  them  by, 
shall  itself  suggest  the  solution  ;  sometimes  gently  leading  them, 
sometimes  leaving  them  to  the  resource  of  their  own  unaided 
endeavors ;  till,  little  by  little,  we  have  conducted  them  through 
a  process  in  which  it  would  be  almost  impossible  for  them  to  tell 
how  much  is  their  own  discovery,  how  much  is  what  they  have 
been  told."—"  UniverMy  Eodension,"'  uM  supra. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  103 

his  pupil ;  and  his  son,  Mr.  Matthew  Arnold,  tells 
us  that  such  is  the  practice  of  the  most  eminent 
teachers  of  Germany. 

If  further  authority  for  the  theoretical  argument 
be  needed,  it  may  be  found  in  the  words  of  Rous- 
seau, who,  recommending  "  self -teaching"  (his  own 
word),  says,  -  "  ObUged  to  learn  by  himself,  the 
pupil  makes  use  of  his  own  reason,  and  not  that  of 
others.  From  the  continual  exercise  of  the  pupil's 
own  understanding  will  result  a  vigor  of  mind, 
like  that  which  we  give  the  body  by  labor  and 
fatigue.  Another  advantage  is,  that  we  advance 
only  in  proportion  to  our  strength.  The  mind,  like 
the  body,  carries  only  that  which  it  can  carry. 
But  when  the  understanding  appropriates  things 
before  depositing  them  in  the  memory,  whatever  it 
afterwards  draws  from  thence  is  properly  its  own." 
Again  :  *' Another  advantage,  also  resulting  from 
this  method,  is,  that  we  do  not  accustom  ourselves 
to  a  servile  submission  to  the  authority  of  others  ; 
but  by  exercising  our  reason,  grow  every  day  more 
ingenious  in  the  discovery  of  the  relations  of 
things,  in  connection  with  our  idea^,  and  in  the 
contrivance  of  machines;  whereas,  by  adopting 
those  which  are  put  into  our  hands,  our  invention 
grows  dull  and  indifferent,  as  the  man  who  never 
dresses  himself,  but  is  served  in  everything  by  his 
servants,  and  drawn  about  everywhere  by  his 
horses,  loses  by  degrees  the  activity  and  use  of  his 
Hmbs."  (**  Essays  on  Educational  Reformers,"  p. 
135,) 

These  views  of  the  fundamental  principles  in- 
volved in  the  Art  of  teaching,  it  will  be  seen,  are 
not  novel.    The  only  novelty  is  in  the  mode  of 


104  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

stating  them.  Practical  teachers  will  candicQy 
judge,  by  reference  to  their  own  experience,  of 
their  value  and  importance. 


EDUCATIONAL  METHODS. 

There  is  a  just  distinction  between  a  method  and 
an  art,  and  between  these  and  a  science.  A  method 
is  a  special  mode  of  administering  an  art,  and  an 
art  is  a  practical  display  of  a  science.  In  education, 
every  teacher  must  have  some  mode  of  exhibiting 
the  notions  he  has  of  his  art,  and  this  mode  is  his 
method.  He  is  practicing  his  art  whenever  he  calls 
forth  the  active  powers  of  his  pupils,  let  the  subject 
on  which  he  exercises  them  be  what  it  may.  A 
simple  machine,  a  flower,  a  bit  of  chalk,  oi  a  por- 
tion of  language,  may  be  the  means  for  displaying 
his  art.  But  if  he  contents  himself  with  leading 
his  pupils,  in  a  desultory  way,  from  one  point  of 
knowledge  to  another,  from  one  temporary  mental 
excitement  to  another,  he  risks  their  loss  both  of 
instruction  and  education — the  one  consisting  in 
the  ordinary  acquisition  of  knowledge,  the  other 
in  the  attainment,  through  instruction,  of  good  men- 
tal habits.  The  teacher,  then,  must  define  his  ob- 
ject by  a  special  mode  or  method  for  securing  it. 
This  method  will  be  the  exponent  of  his  notions  of 
the  art  of  education,  and  it  will  be  good  or  bad  just 
as  these  notions  are  sound  or  unsound ;  and  this, 
again,  will  depend  on  his  knowledge  of  the  science 
of  education — a  science,  as  was  before  shown,  ulti- 
mately based  on  that  of  human  nature. 
105 


106  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION. 

The  principle  being  once  admitted,  that  the  in- 
struction aimed  at  can  only  be  gained  by  the 
thinking  of  the  pupil,  it  follows  that  the  direct  ob- 
ject of  the  teacher  is  to  get  the  learner  to  think. 
The  mode  of  procedure  which  secures  this  ob 
ject  in  the  best  way,  is  the  best  method  of  teaching. 
There  may,  therefore,  be  many  good  methods  of 
teaching ;  but  no  method  is  good  which  does  not 
recognize  and  appreciate  the  pupil's  natural  method 
of  learning.  This  principle,  I  repeat,  serves  as  the 
test  of  the  method  employed  by  the  teacher ;  and  it 
is  in  this  sense  that  the  pupil's  subjective  process  of 
learning  suggests  the  objective  counterpart  method 
of  teaching.  If  the  teacher  succeeds  in  getting  his 
pupils  to  do  all  the  thinking  by  which  the  instruc- 
tion is  gained,  the  method  he  employs  must  be  a 
good  one;  for,  to  repeat  Dr.  Temple's  words,  al- 
ready quoted,  ^'  the  master's  success  may  be  meas- 
ured by  the  degree  in  which  he  can  bring  his  pupils 
to  make  such  exertions  [i.e.,  the  exertions  of  their 
own  minds]  absolutely  without  aid."  In  the  sys- 
tem of  agencies,  then,  by  which  the  work  of  in- 
struction is  to  be  accomplished,  the  principle, 
that  the  pupil's  own  mental  effort  alone  secures 
the  intended  result,  is  the  centripetal  force  which  is 
ever  tending  to  harmonize  the  the  details  of  the 
process.  Continually  actibg  in  opposition  to  this 
are  the  centrifugal  forces — volatility,  indolence, 
indifference,  etc.,  which  tend  to  disturb  its  normal 
operation.  The  teacher  who  commands  both  these 
forces,  directing  the  centripetal  and  controlling  the 
centrifugal,  is  a  master  of  educational  method,  and 
preserves  unity  of  action  amidst  the  endless  diver- 
sities of  his  practice. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  107 

It  follows  from  the  foregoing  observations,  that 
as  the  characteristics  of  a  good  method  of  teaching 
are  suggested  and  dictated  by  the  characteristics  of 
a  good  method  of  learning,  it  is  important  to  know 
what  is  involved  in  a  good  method  of  learning.  In 
the  last  lecture  I  endeavored  to  show  by  an  illus- 
trative lesson  what  the  pupil,  under  the  direction 
of  the  teacher,  does  when  engaged  in  teaching 
himself  a  machine.  The  lesson  was,  however, 
presented  as  typical,  and  may  be  apphed,  mutatis 
mutandis,  to  other  subjects  of  instruction.  It 
showed  that  a  child  can  learn  the  elements  of  phys- 
ical science  by  the  exercise  of  his  own  mind,  "  ab- 
solutely without  the  aid "  of  the  teacher,  except 
that  aid  which  consists  in  maintaining  the  mental 
force  by  which  the  pupil  acquires  his  knowledge. 
The  teacher  throughout  recognized  the  native  ca- 
pacity of  his  pupils  to  learn,  and  his  method  con- 
sisted in  stimulating  that  capacity  to  do  its  proper 
work.  He  gave  no  explanations,  because,  the  ma- 
chine being  its  own  interpreter,  none  were  needed. 
He  gave  no  definitions,  because  all  definitions  given 
in  anticipation  of  the  facts  on  which  they  are 
founded,  would  have  been  unintelligible;  and  he 
properly  considered  that  the  true  basis  of  all  sci  - 
ence  is  a  knowledge  of  facts.  He  recognized,  in 
short,  throughout  the  entire  lesson,  the  principle 
which  I  have  so  often  insisted  on,  that  his  pupils 
were  teaching  themselves,  and  that  he  was  the  di- 
rector of  the  process. 

In  order  to  show  what  the  method  of  the  pupil 
was,  it  is  necessary  briefly  to  recapitulate  the  main 
points  of  the  process.    We  notice,  then : — 

1.  That  he  began  his  self -teaching  with  tangible 


108  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

and  concrete  matter,  on  which  he  could   exercise 
his  natural  senses. 

2.  That  he  employed  analysis  in  gaining  his 
knowledge,  and  synthesis  in  displaying  and  apply- 
ing it. 

3.  That  he  was  an  explorer,  experimenter,  and 
inventor  on  his  own  account — a  true,  however  fee- 
ble, disciple  of  the  method  of  scientific  investiga- 
tion. 

4.  That  he  proceeded  in  proportion  to  his 
strength,  and  consequently  from  the  known  to  the 
unknown. 

5.  That  the  ideas  that  he  gained,  being  derived 
by  himself  from  facts  present  to  his  senses,  were 
clear  and  accurate  as  far  as  they  went. 

6.  That  by  teaching  himself  -relying  on  his  own 
powers — in  a  special  case,  he  was  acquiring  the 
power  of  teaching  himself  generally ;  and  was  there- 
fore on  the  way  to  gain  the  habit  of  independent 
mental  self -direction — ^the  real  goal  of  all  the  teach- 
er's efforts. 

7.  That  he  dispensed  with  all  explanations  on  the 
part  of  the  teacher,  though  he  was  told  the  conven- 
tional and  technical  names  for  things  which  he  al- 
ready knew. 

These  are  not  all,  but  they  are  the  main  charac- 
teristics of  the  pupil's  method  of  learning  elemen- 
tary science,  and  indeed  of  learning  everything — 
language,  geometry,  arithmetic,  for  instance — 
which  admits  of  analysis  or  decomposition  into 
parts,  or  which  ultimately  rests  on  concrete  mat- 
ter. In  learning  the  imitative  arts,  the  process  will 
be  somewhat  varied,  but  the  principles  remain  es 
"sentially  the  same;  for  it  is  the  same  human  mind 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  109 

engaged  in  teaching  itself  under  the  direction  of 
the  teacher. 

All  the  main  characteristics,  then,  of  a  good 
method  of  teaching  are  involved  in  those  of  the  pu- 
pil's natural  method  of  learning;  that  is  to  say, 
the  teacher  must  begin  his  instructions  in  science, 
language,  etc.,  with  concrete  matter — with  facts; 
must  exercise  his  pupil's  native  powers  of  observa- 
tion, judgment  and  reasoning ;  call  on  him  to  prac- 
tice analysis  and  synthesis ;  make  him  explore,  in- 
vestigate, and  discover  for  himself;  and  soon. 

Now,  it  is  obvious  that,  in  order  to  maintain  that 
action  and  influence  by  which  the  pupil's  method 
is  to  end  in  complete  and  accurate  knowledge,  the 
teacher  must  be  well  furnished  with  that  knowl- 
edge of  mental  and  moral  phenomena — of  human 
nature,  in  short — which,  as  I  showed  in  the  first 
lecture,  should  constitute  his  own  equipment  as  an 
educator.  He  must  know  what  the  mind  does 
while  thinking,  in  order  to  get  his  pupils  to  think 
correctly.  He  must  also  know  the  normal  action  of 
moral  forces  before  he  can  effectually  control  the 
moral  forces  of  his  pupils.  In  short  he  must  know 
what  education  is,  and  what  it  can  be  expected  to 
accompUsh,  before  he  can  make  it  yield  its  best  re- 
sults. Without  this  knowledge,  much  of  his  labor 
may  be  misapplied,  and,  even,  if  not  altogether 
wasted,  will  be  much  less  productive  than  it  would 
otherwise  have  been. 

In  order  to  show  that  these  notions  respecting 
the  characteristics  of  a  good  method  are  not  merely 
theoretical,  I  will  now  quote  from  an  independent 
source — Mr.  Marcel's  valuable  treatise  on  teaching  * 


*  "  Language  as  a  Means  of  Mental  Culture  and  International 


110  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

—what  he  considers  to  be  the  main  features  of  such 
a  method  generally. 

"First,"  says  Mr.  Marcel,  "  A  good  method  favors 
self-teaching ;"  and  on  this  point  he  makes  the  fol- 
lowing apt  remarks  : 

*'  One  of  the  chief  characteristics  of  a  good  meth- 
od consists  in  enabling  learners  to  dispense  with  the 
assistance  of  a  teacher  when  they  are  capable  of 
self-government.  It  should  be  so  contrived  as  to 
excite  and  direct  their  spontaneous  efforts,  and 
lead  them  to  the  conviction  that  they  have  the 
power,  if  they  have  the  will,  to  acquire  whatever 
man  has  acquired.  The  prevailing  notion  that  we 
must  be  taught  everything  [that  is,  by  '  the  most 

stupid  and  didactic  method  ']  is  a  great  evil 

The  best  informed  teacheis  and  the  most  elaborate 
methods  of  instruction  can  impart  nothing  to  the 
passive  and  inert  mind.  If  even  a  learner  succeeded 
in  retaining  and  applying  the  facts  enumerated 
to  him,  the  mental  acquisition  would  then  be  vastly 
inferior  to  that  which  the  investigation  of  a  single 
fact,  the  analysis  of  a  single  combination  [e.gr.,  the 
fact  of  the  pile-driving  machine the  com- 
binations it  afforded]  by  his  unaided  reason  would 
achieve." 
2.  **A  good  method  is  in  accordance  with  nature,''^ 
He  adds:  "The  natural  process  by  which  the 
vernacular  idiom  is  acquired  demonstrates  what 
can  be  done  by  self-instruction,  and  presents  the 

Communication ;  a  Manual  of  the  Teacher  and  the  Learner  of 
Languages."  By  C.  Marcel,  Knt.  Leg.  Hon:  French  Consul;  2 
vols.  12mo.;  Chapman  and  Hall,  1853— a  work  of  conspicuous  ex- 
cellence on  the  whole  art  of  teaching,  and  well  deserving  to  Ibe 
reprinted.  ^ 


THE   SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  Ill 

best  mjodel  for  our  imitation  in  devising  a  method 
of  learning  languages. "  [This  is  only  another  way 
of  stating  the  main  proposition,  that  the  method 
of  teaching  is  suggested  by  the  natural  method 
of  learning. 

3.  ''A  good  method  comprises  Analysis  and  Syn- 
thesis.''^ 

"Analysis  is  the  method  of  Nature,  presents  a 
whole,  subdivides  it  into  its  parts,  and  from  partic- 
lars  infers  a  general  truth.  By  analysis  we  discover 
truths ;  by  synthesis  we  transmit  them  to  others. 

Analysis,  consis  ently  with  the  generation 

of  ideas  and  the  process  of  nature,  makes  the 
learner  pass  from  the  known  to  the  unknown ;  it 
leads  him  by  inductive  reasoning  to  the  object  of 
study,  and  is  both  interesting  and  improving,  as  it 
keeps  the  mind  actively  engaged.  Synthesis  [Mr. 
Marcel  here  means  the  synthetic  process  of  the 
teacher ;  there  is  a  little  confusion  in  his  statement], 
on  the  contrary,  which  imposes  truths,  and  sets  out 
with  abstractions,  presents  little  interest,  and  few 
means  of  mental  activity  in  the  first  stages  of  in- 
struction  It  is,  however,  necessary  for 

completing  the  work  commenced  by  analysis.  In 
a  rational  method  we  should  follow  the  natural 
course  of  mental  investigation ;  we  should  proceed 
from  facts  to  principles,  and  then  from  pHnciples 
down  to  consequences.  We  should  begin  with  an- 
alysis, and  conclude  with  synthesis, In 

the  study  of  the  arts,  decomposition  and  recom- 
position,  classification  and  generalization,  are 
the  groundwork  of  creation  [i.e.,   of  invention]." 

4.  *'  A  good  method  is  both  practical  and  compar- 
ative*^^ 


112  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

Mr.  Marcel,  who  has  in  view  especially  the  learn- 
ing of  language,  means,  that  there  should  be  both 
practice  founded  on  imitation  and  comparison, 
conducted  by  the  exercise  of  the  reasoning  pow- 
ers. *'  The  former,"  he  says,  "  exercises  the  powers 
of  perception,  imitation  and  analogy;  the  latter, 
those  of  reflection,  conception,  comparison  and 
reasoning ;  the  first  leads  to  the  art,  the  second  to 

the  science,  of  language The  one  teaches 

how  to  use  a  language,  the  other  how  to  use  the 
h-gher  faculties  of  the  mind.  The  combination  of 
both  would  constitute  the  most  efficient  system." 
[It  is  needless  to  say  that  our  model  lesson  on  teach- 
ing elementary  science  presented  both  these  charac- 
teristics.] 

5.  "A  good  method  is  an  instrument  of  intellect- 
ual  culture.'''' 

This  is  little  more  than  a  repetition  of  the  pre- 
vious statements.  However,  Mr.  Marcel,  in  insist- 
ing that  a  good  method  should  cultivate  all  the  in- 
tellectual faculties,  further  remarks,  that  ''through 
such  a  method  the  reasoning  powers  will  be  un- 
folded by  comparing,  generalizing  and  classifying 
the  facts  of  language,  by  inferring  and  applying 
the  rules  of  grammar,  as  also  by  discriminating 
between  different  sentiments,  different  styles,  dif- 
ferent writers  and  different  languages ;  whilst  the 
active  co-operation  of  attention  and  memory  will 
be  involved  in  the  action  of  all  the  other  faculties." 

Such  are,  according  to  Mr.  Marcel,  who  only  rep- 
resents all  the  writers  of  any  authority  on  the  sub- 
ject, the  main  criteria  of  a  good  method  of  teaching. 
It  is  obvious  that,  though  he  has  chiefly  in  view 
the  teaching  of  languages,  they  strikingly  coincide 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  113 

with  the  deductions  we  gathered  from  observing 
the  pupil's  own  method  of  learning  elementary  sci- 
ence. The  conclusion,  then,  appears  inevitable,  that 
the  characteristics  of  a  good  method  must  be  the 
same  whatever  the  subject  of  instruction,  and  that 
its  goodness  must  be  tested  by  its  recognition  or 
non  recognition  of  the  natural  laws  of  the  process 
by  which  the  human  mind  acquires  knowledge  for 
itself. 

Having  thus  indicated  the  main  criteria  of  a 
good  method  of  teaching,  I  shall  employ  the  re- 
mainder of  our  time  in  the  exposition  and  criticism 
of  the  methods  of  a  few  of  the  masters  of  the  art. 

I  begin  with  Roger  Ascham's  method  of  teaching 
Latin,  a  method  characterized  by  Mr.  J.  B.  Mayor 
(himself  a  high  authority  on  education),  in  his  re- 
cently published  valuable  edition  of  *'  The  Schole- 
master,"  as  "  the  only  sound  method  of  acquiring 
a  dead  language." 

Ascham  gave  his  pupils  a  little  dose  of  grammar 
to  begin  with.  He  required  them  to  learn  by  heart 
about  a  page  of  matter  containirg  a  synopsis  of  the 
eight  parts  of  speech,  and  the  three  concords.  This 
was  the  grammatical  equipment  for  their  work. 
He  then  took  an  easy  epistle  of  Cicero.  What  he 
did  with  it  may  be  best  learnt  from  Ids  own  words. 
"  First,"  he  said,  *'  let  the  master  teache  the  childe, 
cherefullie  and  plainlie,  the  cause  and  matter  of 
the  letter  [that  is,  what  it  is  about],  then  let  him 
construe  it  into  Englishe,  so  oft  as  the  childe  may 
easilie  carie  awaie  the  understanding  of  it,  Lastlie, 
parse  it  over  perfitlie.  [The  teacher,  ifc  is  seen,  sup- 
plies conventional  knowledge— the  English  words 
corresponding  to  the  Latin— which  the  child  could 


114  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

not  possibly  find  out  for  himself,  and  strictly  ap- 
plies the  the  modicum  of  grammar  already  learnt.] 
This  done  thus,  let  the  childe,  by  and  by,  both  con- 
strue and  parse  it  over  againe;  so  that  it  may  ap- 
peare,  that  the  childe  douteth  in  nothing  that  his 
master  taught  him  before.  [This  is  the  repro- 
ductive part  of  the  process,  involving  a  partial, 
mechanical  synthesis.]  After  this,  the  childe  must 
take  a  paper  booke,  and,  sitting  in  some  place  where 
no  man  shall  prompte  him,  by  him  self,  let  him 
translate  into  Englishe  his  former  lesson.  [This  is 
is  a  test  of  sound  acquisition,  and  involves  a  more 
definite  synthesis.]  Then  showing  it  [his  transla- 
tion] to  the  master,  let  the  master  take  from  him 
hi?  Latin  booke  and  pausing  an  houre,  at  the  least, 
than  let  the  childe  translate  his  owne  Enghshe  into 
Latin  againe,  in  another  paper  booke.  [This  is  the 
critical  test,  the  exact  reproduction  by  memory, 
aided  by  judgment,  of  the  knowledge  gained  by 
observation  and  comparison.]  When  the  childe 
bringeth  it  tuined  into  Latin  [his  retranslation]  the 
master  must  compare  it  with  Tullies  booke  [the 
Latin  text  of  the  epistle],  and  laie  them  both  to- 
gither ;  and  where  the  childe  doth  well,  either  in 
chosing  or  true  placing  of  Tullies  words,  let  the 
master  praise  him,  and  saie,  Here  ye  do  well.  For 
I  assure  you  there  is  no  such  whetstone  to  sharpen 
a  good  witte  and  encourage  a  will  to  learninge,  as 
is  praise."  [This  last  part  of  the  process  is  espe- 
cially valuable,  involving  the  correction  of  faults 
in  the  presence  of  the  model,  the  pupil  being  really 
taught,  not  by  the  arbitrary  dictum  of  the  master, 
but  by  the  superior  authority  of  the  masters's  mas- 
ter, the  author,  himself.] 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  115 

In  this  way,  supplying  additional  grammatical 
knowledge  by  the  law  of  exigence,  just  when  it  is 
needed,  the  teacher  finds  in  the  text  thus  carefully 
''lessoned,"  studied  and  known  by  the  pupil,  "the 
ground,"  as  Ascham  puts  it,  "of  almost  all  the 
rewles  that  are  so  busilie  [anxiously]  taught  by  the 
master,  and  so  hardlie  learned  by  the  scholer,  in 
all  common  scholes ;  which  after  this  sort  the  mas- 
ter shall  teach  without  all  error  [because  founded  on 
facts  present  to  view],  and  the  scholer  shall  learn 
withoute  great  paine ;  the  master  being  led  by  so 
sure  a  guide,  and  the  scholer  being  bi?ought  into  so 
plaine  and  easie  a  waie.  And,  therefore"  he  pro- 
ceeds, "we  do  not  contemne  rewles,  but  we  gladlie 
teache  rewles ;  and  teache  them  more  plainlie,  sen- 
sibile,  and  orderHe  than  they  be  commonlie  taught 
in  public  scholes." 

We  see  in  Ascham's  method,  that  the  concrete 
preceded  the  abstract ;  the  particulars,  the  general- 
ization ;  the  examples  of  language,  the  grammatical 
rules.  He  was  thus  carrying  out  the  spirit  of  Dean 
Colet  and  Cardinal  Wolsey,  who  had  insisted,  to 
use  the  words  of  the  former,  that  if  a  man  desires 
"  to  attain  to  understand  Latin  books,  and  to  speak 
and  to  write  clean  Latin,  let  him  above  all  busily 
[carefully]  learn  and  read  good  Latin  authors  of 
chosen  poets  and  orators,  and  note  wisely  how  they 
wrote  and  spake,  and  study  alway  to  follow  them, 
desiring  none  other  rules  but  their  example."  After 
much  more  to  the  same  effect,  ho  ends  his  instruc- 
tions to  the  masters  of  St.  Paul's  School,  by  urging 
that  "busy  [careful]  imitation  with  tongue  and  pen 
more  availeth  shortly  to  get  the  true  eloquent 
speech,  than  all  the  traditions,  rules,  and  precepts 


116  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

of  masters."  Cardinal  Wolsey  uses  nearly  the 
same  words  in  his  directions  to  the  masters  of  Ips- 
wich school. 

Into  the  further  details  of  Ascham's  method,  so 
quaintly  described  in  the  *'  Scholemaster,"  I  cannot 
enter,  except  to  say  that,  after  a  long  training  in 
double-translations,  with  the  constant  application 
of  grammar  rules  as  they  are  wanted  (''the  gram- 
mar booke  being  ever  in  the  scholer's  hand,  and 
also  used  by  him  as  a  dictionarie,  for  everie  present 
use"),  the  master  translates  himself  easy  portions 
of  Cicero  into  English,  and  then  requires  the  pupil, 
who  has  not  seen  the  original^  to  turn  them  into 
Latin.  The  pupiFs  work  is  then  to  be  carefully 
compared  with,  and  corrected  by,  the  original, 
''for  of  good  heedtaking  springeth  chiefly  knowl- 
edge." This  exercise  prepares  the  scholar  for  inde 
pendent  composition  in  Latin. 

There  is  one  feature  especially  in  this  method,  as 
described  by  Ascham,  worthy  of  careful  notice, 
and  that  is  the  close  study  of  a  small  portion  of  lit- 
erary  matter,  ending  in  a  com^plete  mastery  of  it. 
The  various  exercises  of  the  method  require  the 
pupil,  as  Ascham  shows,  to  go  over  this  portion  at 
least  a  dozen  times;  and,  he  adds  significantly, 
"  always  with  pleasure ;  for  pleasure  allureth  love, 
love  hath  lust  to  labour,  labour  always  attaineth 
his  purpose. "  By  continually  coming  into  direct 
contact  with  the  phraseology  of  the  text,  the  pupil 
masters  the  form,  and  through  the  form  penetrates 
into  the  spirit  of  the  author ;  or,  as  Ascham  phrases 
it,  ' '  by  marking  dailie  and  following  diligentHe  the 
footsteps  of  the  best  authors,  the  pupil  understands 
their  invention  of  argument,   their  arrangement 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  Il7 

of  topics,  and  hereby,"  he  adds,  ''your  scholer  shall 
be  brought  not  only  to  like  [similar]  eloquence,  but 
also  to  all  true  understanding  and  rightful  judgment 
for  speaking  and  writing."  It  appears,  then,  that 
Ascham's  pupil  proceeds  firmly  on  a  broad  basis 
of  facts,  which  he  has  made  his  own  by  mental 
conquest,  and  that  this  has  been  possible  because 
the  field  of  conquest  has  been  intentionally  limited. 
It  is  obvious  that  no  method  of  teaching  which 
consists  in  bringing  a  bit  of  this  thing  (or  author), 
a  bit  of  that  thing  (or  author),  transiently  before  the 
pupiFs  mind,  creating  ideas,  like  dissolving  views, 
each  of  which  in  its  turn  displaces  its  predecessor, 
which  makes  acquisitions  only  to  abandon  them 
before  they  are  "incorporated  with  the  organic  life 
of  the  mind,"  can  possibly  be  a  good  method. 
Hence  the  very  general  result  of  our  system  of  edu- 
cation, so  called,  is  a  farrago  of  facts  partially 
hatched  into  principles,  mingled  in  unseemly  jum- 
ble with  rules  half  understood,  exceptions  claiming 
equal  rank  with  the  rules,  definitions  diplocated 
from  the  objects  they  define,  and  technicalities 
which  clog  rather  than  facilitate,  as  they  should  do, 
the  operations  of  the  mind. 

It  would  be  easy  to  sh(  w  that  the  valuable  ends 
of  instruction  and  education  can  only  be  gained 
by  doing  a  little  well  ;  that  the  ambition  to  grasp 
many  things  ignobly  ends  in  the  loss  ^f  a  large 
majority  of  them  {qui  trop  embrasse  mal  etreint)  ; 
that  apprehension  is  not  comprehension,  and  gener- 
ally, that  to  the  characteristics  of  a  good  method 
of  teaching  we  must  add  this,  that  it  aims  at  se- 
curing multum,  but  not  multa.  If  the  object  of 
education   is  training  to  faculty,  to  mental  self- 


118  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDtJCATION. 

direction,  his  principle  must  be  constantly  insisted 
on.  I  see,  however,  with  the  deepest  regret, 
that  our  educational  amateurs— men  of  the  best 
intentions,  but  of  no  practical  experience — are  con- 
tinually violating  it  in  their  persistent  attempts  to 
extend  the  curriculum  of  elementary  instruction, 
A  little  bit  of  this  knowledge,  a  little  bit  of  that — 
some  information  on  this  point,  and  some  on  that 
— is  so  "useful."  They  forget  that  the  most  use- 
ful thing  of  all  is  the  formation  of  good  mental 
habits,  and  that  these  can  only  be  formed  by  con- 
centrating the  mind  on  a  few  subjects,  and  mak- 
ing them  the  basis  of  training.  When  this  supreme- 
ly useful  object  has  been  gained,  the  curriculum 
may  be  extended  ad  libitum;  but  not  till  then. 
What  is  really  wanted  in  primary,  and  indeed  all 
classes  of  schools,  is  not  so  much,  more  subjects  to 
teach,  but  the  power  of  teaching  the  ordinary  sub- 
jects well.  Ascham's  method,  then,  with  some 
slight  modifications,  presents  all  the  characteris- 
tic features  of  a  good  method  of  teaching,  and  is,  I 
need  not  point  out,  identical  in  principle  with  that 
already  illustrated.  It  is  natural,  simple,  effective, 
although  so  widely  different,  in  most  of  its  features, 
from  the  ^traditional  methods  of  our  grammar 
schools ;  which  are  indeed,  in  most  respects,  suited 
to  the  mental  condition  of  the  ambitious,  active- 
minded,  inventive  few,  but  not  at  all  to  the  ordin- 
ary mental  condition  of  the  many ;  We  too  of ter 
forget  that  the  raison  d'etre  of  the  schoolmaster  is 
the  instruction,  not  of  the  minority  who  will  and 
can  teach  themselves,  but  of  the  majority  who  can 
but  will  not.     Our  teaching  force  should  regulate 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  119 

the  movements  rather  of  the  ordinary  planets  than 
of  the  comets  of  the  system. 

In  t£Le  seventeenth  century,  a  nimiber  of  thought- 
ful men — Germans — ^unsatisfied  with  the  methods 
of  education  then  in  vogue,  began  almost  simul- 
taneously to  investigate  the  principles  of  education ; 
and,  as  the  result,  arrived  virtually  at  the  conclu- 
sion on  which  I  have  so  often  insisted,  that  the 
teacher's  function  is  reaUy  defined  by  that  of  the 
pupil,  and  that  it  is  by  understanding  what  he  is, 
and  what  he  does,  that  we  learn  how  to  treat  him 
wisely  and  effectively.  The  eminent  names  of 
Eatich,  Sturm,  and  especially  Comenius,  are  con- 
nected with  this  movement.  I  can  do  no  more 
than  refer  those  who  are  interested  in  the  details 
to  Von  Eaumer's  valuable  ''Geschichte  der  Pada- 
gogik,"  or  to  Mr.  Quick's  exposition  of  them  in  the 
*' Essays  on  Educational  Reformers.  The  results 
may  be  stated  in  Mr.  Quick's  words  : 

'*1.  They  [the  reformers  in  question]  proceed 
from  the  concrete  to  the  abstract,  giving  some 
knowledge  of  the  thing  itself  before  the  rules  which 
refer  to  it.  2.  They  employ  the  student  in  analyz- 
ing matter  put  before  him,  rather  than  in  working 
synthetically  according  to  precept.  3.  They  re- 
quire the  student  to  teach  himself,  under  the  super- 
intendence of  the  master,  rather  than  be  taught  by 
the  master,  and  receive  anything  on  the  master's 
authority.  4.  They  rely  on  the  interest  excited  in 
the  pupil  by  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  ;  and  re- 
nounce coercion.  5,  Only  that  which  is  under- 
stood may  be  committed  to  memory." 

The  methods,  then,  of  these  reformers  present 


120  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

the  same  characteristics  which  we  have  deductive- 
ly gained  by  other  means. 

In  a  lecture  on  Methods,  it  is  impossible  to  omit 
the  names  of  Locke  and  Kousseau.  As,  however, 
it  is  easy  to  read  through  the  short  and  very  inter- 
esting "  Treatise  on  Education"  and  the  capital  di- 
gest of  the  **Emile"in  Mr.  Quick's  book,  I  may 
pass  them  over. 

We  come  next  to  Pestalozzi  —a  name  of  world- 
wide renown,  of  still  increasing  influence.  He 
differed  essentially  from  Comenius,  whom  he  prac- 
tically succeeded  in  the  history  of  education,  in 
being  a  comparatively  uneducated  man.  When 
once  reproached  by  his  enemies  (of  whom ;  from 
various  causes,  he  had  many)  with  being  unable  to 
read,  write,  and  cipher  respectably,  he  frankly  ac- 
knowledged that  the  charge  was  true.  On  another 
occasion  he  confessed  to  an  *'  unrivalled  incapacity 
to  govern'' — a  confession  which  discovered  a  most 
accurate  self-knowledge  on  his  part ;  and  generally, 
his  whole  educational  hfe  bore  witness  to  the  defi- 
ciency of  his  mental  equipment  and  training.  He 
often  bitterly  deplored,  when  he  could  not  remedy, 
this  ignorance  and  incapacity.  His  mind,  however, 
was  remarkably  active  and  enterprising,  and  his 
moral  power  truly  immense.  A  thousand  criti- 
cisms on  his  want  of  knowledge,  of  judgment,  of 
the  power  of  government,  even  of  common  sense 
(as  men  usually  estimate  that  quality),  fall  power- 
less as  attacks  on  a  man  whose  unfailing  hope,  love, 
and  patience  not  only  formed  his  inward  support 
under  trials  and  disappointments,  but  combined 
with  that  intense  necessity  of  action,  which  was 
the  essence  of  his  nature,  in  stamping  his  moral 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  121 

influence  on  all  around  him.  Virtue,  with  him  was 
not  a  mere  word  ;  it  was  an  energetic,  ever-acting 
force.*  To  instruct  and  humanize  the  poor  wretch- 
ed children  who  were  generally  his  pupils, — to  re- 
lieve their  physical  wants  and  sufferings,— to  sym- 
pathize with  them  under  their  difficulties, — ^was  to 
him  not  only  a  duty  but  a  delight.  To  accomplish 
these  objects,  he  worked  like  a  horse  (only  harder), 
fagging  and  slaving  sometimes  from  three  in  the 
morning  till  eleven  at  night,  dressed  himself  like  a 
mechanic,  almost  starved  himself,  became,  as  he 
tells  us,  **the  children's  teacher,  trainer,  paymas- 
ter, man-servant,  and  almost  house-maid"  ;  and 
all  this  to  gain  the  means  for  instructing,  boarding, 
sometimes  even  clothing  children  who  not  unf re- 
quently  rewarded  his  labors  with  ingratitude  and 
scorn.  Pestalozzi  was  indeed  the  Howard  of  school- 
masters. 

It  was  his  unbounded  philanthropy  that  first  led 
him  to  become  a  schoolmaster,— his  intense  love 
and  pity  that  supphed  both  motive  and  means.  He 
saw  around  him  children  perishing,  as  he  conceiv- 
ed, from  lack  of  knowledge ;  and  though  possessed 
of  little  himself,  though  mentally  untrained,  though 
ignorant  of  the  experience  of  other  teachers,  he  re- 
solved, with  such  appliances  as  he  had ;  to  com- 
mence the  work.  The  one  ruling  thought  in  his 
mind  was,    '*Here  are  poor,  ignorant   children. 

*  Like  most  enthusiasts,  however,  he  exercised  it  very  irregu- 
larly. On  one  occasion,  we  are  told, when  reduced  to  the  utmost 
extremity  for  want  of  money,  he  borrowed  400  francs  from  a 
friend.  Going  home,  he  met  a  peasant  wringing  his  hands  in 
despair  for  the  loss  of  his  cow.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation, 
Pestalozzi  put  the  purse  with  all  its  contents  into  the  man's 
hands  and  ran  off,  as  quick  as  he  could,  to  escape  his  thanks. 


122  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION. 

From  my  heart  I  pity  them,  I  feel  that  I  can  do 
them,  some  good.    Let  me  try." 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  his  trials  often 
proved  *' trials"  indeed;  and  ended  in  utter  disap- 
pointment ;  for  although  his  educational  instincts 
furnished  him  with  excellent  notions  and  theories 
about  teaching,  the  actual  results  were  often  un- 
satisfactory. In  this  intense  eagerness  to  press 
forward,  he  never  stopped  to  examine  results,  nor 
to  co-ordinate  means  with  ends.  Provided  that  he 
could  excite,  as  he  generally  did,  a  vivid  interest 
in  the  actual  lesson,  he  was  contented  with  that  ex- 
citement as  the  end  of  his  teaching.  Thus,  while 
he,  to  some  extent  developed  the  mental  powers, 
he  did  not  even  conceive  of  the  higher  end  of  train- 
ing them  to  independent  action. 

In  order  to  show  what  Pestalozzi's  method  of 
teaching  really  was,  I  shall  quote  some  passages 
from  an  interesting  narrative  written  by  Ram- 
sauer,  who  was- first  a  pupil  and  then  a  teacher  in 
one  of  Pestalozzi's  schools.* 

Referring  to  his  experience  as  a  pupil,  he  says, 
*^  I  got  about  as  much  regular  schooling  as  the  other 
scholars — namely,  none  at  all  ;  but  his  (Pestalozzi's) 
sacred  zeal,  his  devoted  love,  which  caused  him  to 
be  entirely  unmindful  of  himself,  his  serious  and 
depressed  state  of  mind,  which  struck  even  the 
children,  made  the  deepest  impression  on  me,  and 
knit  my  childlike  and  grateful  heart  to  his  for- 
ever." 

Pestalozzi  had  a  notion  **that  all  the  instruction 

*  These  quotations  are  taken  from  a  translation  by  Mr.  Tilleard 
of  Von  Raumer's  account  of  Pestalozzi's  Life  and  System,  given 
in  the  "  Geschichte  der  Padagogik." 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  123 

of  the  school  should  start  from  form,  number  and 
language  ;  so  that  the  entire  curriculum  consisted 
of  drawing,  ciphering,  and  exercises  in  language." 
*'We  neither  read  nor  wrote,"  says  Ramsauer, 
"  nor  were  we  required  to  commit  to  memory,  any- 
thing secular  or  sacred. 

*'  For  the  drawing,  we  had  neither  copies  to  draw 
from  nor  directions  what  to  draw,  but  only  cray 
onsand  boards;  and  t\^e  were  told  to  draw  *what 
we  liked.  ^  ....  But  we  did  not  know  what 
to  draw,  and  so  it  happened '  that  some  drew  men 

and  women,  some  houses,  etc Pesta- 

lozzi  never  looked  to  see  what  we  had  drawn,  or 
rather  scribbled;  but  the  clothes  of  all  the  schol- 
ars, especially  the  sleeves  and  elbows,  gave  unmis- 
takeable  evidence  that  they  had  been  making  due 
use  of  their  crayons."  [This  is  a  remarkable  speci- 
men of  children  being  left  to  teach  themselves, 
without  the  careful  superintendence  of  the  teacher^ 
and  certainly  does  not  recommend  the  practice.] 

**For  the  ciphering,"  Eamsauer  says,  **wehad 
between  every  two  scholars  a  small  table  pasted 
on  mill-board,  on  which,  in  quadrangular  fields, 
were  marked  dots  which  we  had  to  count,  to  add 
together,  to  subtract,  to  multiply  and  divide  by  one 
another,"  [Here  there  is  obviously  some  superin- 
tendence ;  the  character  of  it,  however,  is  seen  in 
what  follows.]  **But  as  Pestalozzi  only  allowed 
the  scholars  to  go  over  and  to  repeat  the  exercises 
in  their  turns,  and  never  questioned  them  nor  set 
them  tasks,  these  exercises  which  were  otherwise 
very  good,  remained  without  any  great  utiHty.  He 
had  not  sufficient  patience  to  allow  things  to  be 
gone  over  again,  or  to  put  questions ;  and  in  his 


124  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION. 

enormous  zeal  for  the  instruction  of  the  whole 
school,  he  seemed  not  to  concern  himself  in  the 
slightest  degree  for  the  individual  scholar. "  [These 
are  Eamsauer's  words,  and  they  give  a  curious  idea 
of  a  superintendence  which  involved  neither  knowl- 
edge of  the  nature  of  the  machine,  nor  a  true  con- 
ception of  the  end  towards  which  it  was  working, 
nor  any  notion  of  the  corrections  necessary  to  con- 
trol its  aberrations  and  apply  its  action  to  special 
cases.  Yet,  as  making  concrete  matter  the  basis  of 
the  abstractions  of  number,  it  was  good;  and  good, 
too,  in  employing  the  pupil's  own  observation,  and 
his  analytical  and  synthetical  faculties.  Hence 
we  find  that  Pestalozzi  was  more  successful  in 
teaching  arithmetic  than  anything  else.] 

Kamsauer  proceeds, — *'The  best  things  we  had 
with  him  were  the  exercises  on  language,  at  least 
those  which  we  gave  us  on  the  paper-hangings  of 
the  school-room,  and  which  were  real  exercises  on 
observation."  *' These  hangings,"  he  goes  on  to 
say,  *'were  very  old  and  a  good  deal  torn  ;  and 
before  these  we  had  frequently  to  stand  for  two 
or  three  hours  together,  and  say  what  we  observed 
in  respect  to  the  form,  number,  position,  and  color 
of  the  figures  painted  on  them,  and  the  holes  torn 
in  them,  and  to  express  what  we  observed  in  sen- 
tences gradually  increasing  in  length.  On  such 
occasions  he  would  say,  *  Boys,  what  do  you  see  V 
(He  never  named  the  girls).  Ans.—A  hole  in  the 
wainscoat  (meaning  the  hangings).  P.— Very 
good.  Now  repeat  after  me  :  I  see  a  hole  in  the 
wainscoat.  I  see  a  long  hole  in  the  wainscoat. 
Through  the  hole  I  see  the  wall.  Through  the  long 
narrow  hole  I  see  the  wall.    P.— -Eepeat  after  me  ; 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  125 

I  see  figures  on  the  paper-hangings.  I  see  black 
figures  on  the  paper-hangings.  I  see  round  black 
figures  on  the  paper-hangings.  I  see  a  square  yel- 
low figure  on  the  paper-hangings,  Beside  the 
square  yellow  figure  I  see  black  round  figures," 
etc. 

**  Of  less  utility  were  those  exercises  in  language 
which  he  took  from  natural  history,  and  in  which 
we  had  to  repeat  after  him,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  draw,  as  I  have  already  mentioned.  He  would 
say  : — Amphibious  animals — crawling  amphibious 
animals,  creeping  amphibious  animals.  Monkeys 
— ^long-tailed  monkeys,  short-tailed  monkeys,  and 
so  on." 

Ramsauer  adds,— we  did  not  understand  a  word 
of  this,  for  not  a  word  was  explained  ;  and  it  was 
all  spoken  in  such  a  sing-song  tone,  and  so  rapidly 
and  indistinctly,  that  it  would  been  a  wonder  if 
any  one  had  understood  anything  of  it,  and  had 
learnt  anything  from  it.  Besides,  Pestalozzi  cried 
out  so  dreadfully  loud  and  so  continuously  that  he 
could  not  hear  us  repeat  after  him,  the  less  so  as 
he  never  waited  for  us  when  he  had  read  out  a  sen- 
tence, but  went  on  without  intermission,  and  read 
off  a  whole  page  at  once.  Our  repetition  consist- 
ed for  the  most  part  in  saying  the  last  word  or 
syllable  of  each  phrase  ;  thus, '*  Monkeys— mon- 
keys," or  **  Keys— keys."  There  was  never  any 
questioning  or  recapitulation." 

This  long  but  interesting  account  from  the  pen  of 
an  attached  pupil,  fairly  represents  (as  we  learn 
from  Von  Raumer  himself,  who  spent  nearly  nine 
months  in  the  school)  Pestalozzi's  actual  teaching, 
though  not  the  ideal  which,  in  describing  results 


126  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

to  strangers,  he  often  in  his  enthusiasm,  substituted 
for  it. 

In  criticising  it,  we  observe,  in  the  first  place, 
that  Pestaiozzi's  method  excites  mental  action  to 
some  extent,  but  secures  the  ends  neither  of  in- 
struction nor  education.  It  scarcely  at  all  recog- 
nizes the  self -teaching  of  the  child,  but  rather  su- 
persedes it  by  the  mechanical  repetition  of  the 
master's  words.  The  observation  of  the  child, 
called  for  a  moment  to  the  properties  of  objects,  is 
immediately  checked  by  the  resolution,  on  the  part 
of  the  teacher,  of  the  lesson  on  things  into  a  lesson 
on  words.  The  naming  of  qualities,  not  ascertain 
ed  by  investigation,  but  pointed  out  by  the  teach- 
er, constitutes  what  Pestalozzi  looked  on  in  theory 
as  a  training  in  the  powers  of  observation.  Von 
Baumer,  Professors  Maiden  and  Moseley,  and  Her- 
bert Spencer,  all  agree  in  their  estimate  both  of 
the  value  of  Pestaiozzi's  theory  respecting  object- 
teaching,  and  the  comparative  worthlessness  of  his 
practice.  In  fact,  to  hold  up  a  piece  of  chalk  before 
a  class  G^eeping  it  in  your  own  hands  all  the  while), 
to  call  out,  *'  That  is  chalk,"  or  to  make  the  class 
repeat  after  you  three  times,  **That  is  chalk  !  that 
is  chalk  I  that  is  chalk!"  or  "Chalk  is  white," 
'*  Chalk  is  hard,"  etc.,  is  in  no  proper  sense  teaching 
the  properties  of  chalk,  but  only  the  names  of  its 
properties. 

Pestalozzi,  however,  never  saw  this,  nor  that  his 
method  generally  had  no  tendency  to  train  the 
mind.  An  additional  proof  of  his  blindness  in  this 
respect  was  that  he  drew  up  manuals  of  instruc- 
tion for  his  teachers  which  involved  in  their  use  a 
perfectly  slavish  routine.    Thus  we  learn  from  his 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  127 

**  Book  for  Mothers,"  that  the  teacher,  in  leaching 
a  child  the  parts  of  his  own  hody  (which  he  fancied 
was  the  subject  to  be  first  taught),  is  to  go,  word 
for  word,  through  a  quantity  of  such  matter  as 
this  : — *'  The  middle  bones  of  the  index  finger  are 
placed  outside,  on  the  middle  joints  of  the  index 
finger,  between  the  back  and  middle  members  of 
the  index  finger,"  etc.  Then  he  compiled  a  spelling- 
book  containing  long  lists  of  words,  which  were  to 
be  repeated  to  the  infant  in  its  cradle^  before  it  was 
able  to  pronounce  even  one  of  them,  that  they 
might  be  deeply  impressed  on  its  memory  by  fre- 
quent repetition. 

On  the  whole,  then,  from  Pestalozzi's  method 
pur  et  simple,  there  is  little  to  be  gained.  It  was 
much  improved  subsequently  by  some  of  his  teach- 
ers, Schmid,  Niederer,  etc.,  who  saw  in  his  the- 
ories applications  which  he  failed  to  see  himself. 
Had  he  been  educated  in  education,— had  he,  more- 
over, profited  by  the  experience  of  others,— had  he 
brought  his  practice  into  conformity  with  his  prin- 
ciples (crude  enough  though  some  of  these  were) — 
his  career,  instead  of  being  a  series  of  failures  and 
disappointments,  many  of  them  due,  however,  to 
his  unrivalled  *'  incapacity  to  govern,"  would  have 
been  one  of  triumphant  success. 

As  it  is,  we  owe  him  much.  His  principles,  and 
much  of  his  practice,  are  an  inheritance  that  the 
world  will  not  willingly  let  die.  Let  us,  however, 
leave  the  noble-minded,  seK-sacrificing  Pestalozzi, 
with  all  his  virtues  and  all  his  faults,  and  pass  on 
to  Jacotot. 

It  should  be  stated  in  the  outset,  that  Jacotot  was 
rather  an  educator  of  the  mind  than  of  all  the  hu- 


128  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

man  forces.  He  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
placed  in  circumstances  which  required  him  to  de- 
velop and  train,  by  special  treatment,  the  physical 
and  moral  powers;  although  the  moral  force  of  his 
own  energetic  character,  as  well  as  that  of  his  sys- 
tem, could  not  but  be,  and  was,  vitally  influential 
on  the  whole  being  of  his  pupils.  It  is,  however, 
mainly  as  a  teacher  that  I  propose  to  consider  him. 

But  some  here  will  inquire  who  was  Jacotot;— a 
question  I  have  no  time  to  answer  in  detail.  I  can 
merely  say  that  he  was  born  at  Dijon  in  1770 ;  was 
educated  at  the  college  of  that  town ;  at  nineteen 
years  of  age  took  the  degree  of  Docteur-es-Lettres, 
and  was  appointed  Professor  of  Humanities  (le., 
grammar,  rhetoric,  and  composition)  in  the  same 
college ;  when  the  troubles  of  his  country  arose,  be- 
came, at  the  age  of  twenty-two,  a  captain  of  artil- 
lery, and  fought  bravely  at  the  sieges  of  Maestricht 
and  Valenciennes ;  was  afterwards  made  sub-direc- 
tor of  the  Polytechnic  School  at  Paris ;  then  Pro- 
fessor of  the  Method  of  Sciences  at  Dijon ;  and  Irter 
Professor  of  Pure  and  Transcendental  Mathematics, 
Koman  Law,  Ancient  and  Oriental  Languages  in 
different  colleges  and  universities.  Obliged,  as  a 
marked  opponent  of  the  Bourbons,  to  leave  France 
on  their  restoration,  he  took  refuge  in  Brussels, 
and  was  in  1818  appointed  by  the  Belgian  govern- 
ment Professor  of  the  French  Language  and  Liter- 
ature in  the  University  of  Louvain ;  there  discov- 
ered the  method  of  teaching  which  goes  by  his 
name;  devoted  the  remainder  of  his  life  to  propa- 
gating it;  and  died  at  Paris  in  1840,  being  then 
seventy  years  of  age. 

We  are  told  that,  as  a  schoolboy,  he  displayed 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  129 

some  remarkable  characteristics.  He  was  what 
teachers,  and  especially  dull  ones,  consider  a  par- 
ticularly *' objectionable"  child.  He  was  one  of 
those  children  who  *'  wanted  to  know,  you  know," 
why  this  thing  was  so;  why  that  other  thing  was 
not.  He  showed  little  deference,  I  am  afraid,  to 
the  formal,  didactic  prelections  of  his  teachers. 
Not  that  he  was  idle ;  far  from  that.  We  are  told 
that  he  delighted  in  the  acquisition  of  all  kinds  of 
knowledge  that  could  be  gained  by  his  own  efforts, 
while  he  steadily  resisted  what  was  imposed  on  him 
by  authority ;  admitting  nothing  which  was  prima 
facie  contestable ;  rejecting  whatever  he  could  not 
see  clearly ;  refusing  to  learn  by  heart  grammars, 
or,  indeed,  any  mere  digests  of  conclusions  made 
by  others.  At  the  same  time  he  eagerly  committed 
to  memory  passages  of  authors  which  pleased  him, 
thus  spontaneously  preferring  the  society  of  the 
'^  masters  of  the  granmaarians "  to  that  of  the 
grammarians  themselves.  Even  as  a  child,  nearly 
everything  he  knew  he  had  taught  himself.  He 
was  in  short,  ill  adapted  to  be  a  pupil  of  any  of 
those  methods  which,  in  Mrs.  Pipchin's  fashion,  are 
intended  to  open  the  mind  of  a  child  Hke  an  oyster, 
instead  of  encouraging  it  to  develop  like  a  flower. 
As  a  Professor,  his  rooms  were  always  crowded 
with  eager  pupils;  and  his  inaugural  address,  at 
Louvain,  was  received,  we  are  told  by  one  who  was 
present,  with  an  enthusiasm  like  that  which  usu- 
ally greeted  Talma  on  the  stage. 

His  style  of  teaching,  as  a  Professor,  before  the 
invention  of  his  method,  was  striking  and  original. 
Instead  of  pouring  forth  a  flood  of  information  on 
the  subject  under  attention  from  his  own  ample 


130  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

stores,  explaining  everything,  and  thus  too  fre- 
quently superseding,  in  a  great  degree,  the  pupil's 
own  investigation  of  it,  Jacotot,  after  a  simple 
statement  of  the  object  of  the  lesson,  with  its  lead- 
ing divisions,  boldly  started  it  as  a  quarry  for  the 
class  to  hunt  down,  and  invited  every  member  to 
take  part  in  the  chase.  All  were  at  liberty  to  raise 
questions,  make  objections,  and  suggest  answers, 
to  ask  for  facts  as  the  basis  of  arguments,  to  repu- 
diate mere  didactic  authority.  During  the  dis- 
cussion, the  teacher  confined  himself  to  asking 
questions,  to  suggesting  now  and  then  a  fresh 
scent,  to  requiring  clear  statements  and  mutual 
courtesy ;  but  of  teaching,  in  the  popular  sense  of 
the  term,  as  consisting  in  the  authorative  com- 
munication of  knowledge,  there  was  little  or  none. 
His  object  throughout  was  to  excite,  maintain,  and 
direct  the  intellectual  energies  of  his  pupils— to 
train  them  to  think.  The  lesson  was  concluded  by 
his  summing  up  the  argmnents  that  had  been  ad- 
duced, and  stating  clearly  the  results  obtained.* 

*  Mr.  Wilson,  of  Rugby,  in  his  admirable  paper  in  the  "  Essays 
on  a  Liberal  Education,"  thus  describes,  in  almost  identical  terms, 
what  he  considers  a  proper  method  of  teaching  science  :— 

**  Theory  and  experience  alike  convince  me  that  the  master 
who  is  teaching  a  class  quite  unfamiliar  with  scientific  method, 
ought  to  make  a  class  teach  themselves,  by  thinking  out  the  sub- 
ject of  the  lecture  with  them,  taking  up  their  suggestions  and  il- 
lustrations, criticizing  them,  hunting  them  down,  and  proving  a 
suggestion  barren  or  an  illustration  inapt ;  starting  them  on  a 
fresh  scent  when  they  are  at  fault,  reminding  them  of  some  fami- 
liar fact  they  had  overlooked,  and  so  eliciting  out  of  the  cliaos  of 
vague  notions  that  are  afloat  on  the  matter  in  hand— be  it  the 
laws  of  motion,  the  evaporation  of  water,  or  the  origin  of  the 
drift— something  of  order,  and  concatenation,  and  interest,  before 
the  key  to  the  mystery  is  given,  even  if,  after  all,  it  has  to  be 
given.    Training  to  think,  not  to  be  a  mechanic  or  surveyor,  must 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  131 

We  come  now  to  the  origin  of  Jacotot's  method. 
In  entering  on  his  duties  at  Louvain,  he  found  that 
he  had  to  lecture  to  students,  many  of  whom  knew 
nothing  of  French.  As  he  was  himself  ignorant  of 
Flemish,  the  problem  was,  how  to  teach  them.  He 
solved  it  in  this  way.  He  put  into  their  hands 
copies  of  Telemaque,  which  contained  a  Flemish 
translation,  not  Hteral,  on  the  opposite  page.  After 
some  exercises  in  pronounciation,  he  directed  the 
students,  through  an  interpreter,  to  commit  to 
memory  a  few  sentences  of  the  French  text,  and 
gather  their  general  meaning  from  the  version  in 
their  own  language.  They  were  told,  on  the  second 
day,  and  for  several  days,  to  add  other  portions  in 
the  same  way,  while  carefully  repeating  from  the 
beginning.  This  process,  the  laying  in  of  mtiterials, 
was  repeated  until  a  page  or  two  of  the  book  was 
thoroughly  known— that  is,  known  so  that  the  pu- 
pils could  go  on  with  any  sentence  of  the  French 
text  from  memory,  when  the  first  word  was  given, 
or  quote  the  whole  sentence  in  which  any  given 
word  occurred,  while  they  had  at  the  same  time  a 
general  idea  of  the  meaning.  The  teacher  now  be- 
gan, through  his  interpreter,  to  put  questions,  in 
order  to  test  their  knowledge,  not  only  of  the  sen- 
be  first  and  foremost  as  his  object.  So  valuable  are  the  subjects 
intrinsically,  and  such  excellent  models  do  they  provide,  that  the 
most  stupid  and  didactic  teaching-  will  not  be  useless,  but  it  will 
not  be  the  same  source  of  power  that  *  the  method  of  investiga- 
tion '  will  be  in  the  hands  of  a  good  master.  Some  few  will  work 
out  a  logic  of  proof,  and  a  logic  of  discovery,  when  the  facts  and 
laws  that  are  discovered  and  proved  have  had  time  to  lie  and 
crystalize  in  their  minds.  But  imbued  with  scientific  method 
they  scarcely  will  be,  unless  it  springs  up  spontaneously  in 
them."-*' On  Teaching  Natural  Science  in  Schools."  Essays  on 
a  Idberal  Education^  pp.  281,  282. 


132  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

tences,  as  wholes,  but  also  of  the  component  phrases 
and  words.  As  the  process  of  learning  by  heart, 
and  repeating  from  the  beginning,  went  on,  the 
questions  became  more  close  and  specific,  so  as  to 
induce  in  the  pupils'  minds  an  analysis  of  the  text 
into  its  minutest  elements.  When  about  half  the 
first  book  of  Telemaque  was  thus  intimately  known, 
Jacotot  told  them  to  relate  in  their  own  French, 
good  or  bad,  the  substance,  not  the  exact  words,  of 
this  or  that  paragraph  of  the  portion  that  they 
knew,  or  to  read  a  paragraph  of  another  part  of 
the  book,  and  write  down  or  say  what  it  was  about. 
He  was  surprised  at  their  success  in  this  synthetic 
use  of  their  fund  of  materials.  He  praised  their 
achievements  ;  saw,  but  took  no  notice  of,  the 
blunders;  or  if  he  did,  it  was  simply  to  require  the 
pupils  to  correct  them  themselves  by  reference  to 
the  text  (just  as  Ascham  did).  He  reckoned  on 
the  power  of  the  process  itself,  which  involved  an 
active  exercise  of  the  mind,  to  correct  blunders 
which  arose  from  inadvertence.  In  a  very  short 
time,  these  youths,  learning,  repeating,  answering 
questions,  were  able  to  relate  anything  that  they 
had  first  read  over.  Compositions  of  different 
kinds,  their  text  furnishing  both  subjects  and  langu- 
age, were  then  given,  and  it  was  found  that  as  they 
advanced  they  spontaneously  recognized  in  their 
practice  the  rules  of  orthography  and  grammar 
(without  having  learned  them),  and  at  length  wrote 
a  language  not  their  own  better  (as  Jacotot  some- 
what extravagantly  declared)— that  is,  with  a  more 
complete  command  of  the  force,  correctness,  and 
even  graces  of  style — than  either  himself  or  any  of 
his  colleagues. 


THE  SCONCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  133 

All  were  surprised  at  the  result  of  his  experi- 
ment, but  Jacotot  alone  perceived  the  principles  in- 
volved in  it.    He  saw — 

(1).  That  his  pupils  had  learned  French,  not 
through  his  knowledge  of  it — the  circumstances  for- 
bade that — but  through  the  exercise  of  their  own 
minds  upon  the  matter  of  the  text,  which  they  had 
committed  to  memory.  If  they  had  had  any 
teacher,  the  book  had  been  their  teacher.  It  was 
from  that  source  they  had  derived  all  their  knowl- 
edge, and  the  exercise  of  their  observing,  remem- 
bering, comparing,  generalising,  jadging,  and  ana- 
lysing powers  upon  it  had  suppHed  them  with  the 
materials  they  employed  in  their  synthetic  applica- 
tions. 

(2).  He  saw  that,  though  he  had  been  nominally 
their  teacher,  they  had  really  taught  themselves, 
— ^that  the  acquisitions  they  had  made  were  their 
own  acquisitions,  the  fruit  of  their  own  mental  ex- 
ertions,—that  the  method  by  which  they  had  learn- 
ed was  really  their  method,  not  his. 

(3).  He  deduced  from  this  observation,  that  che 
function  of  the  teacher  is  that  of  an  external  moral 
force,  always  in  operation  to  excite,  maintain  and 
direct  the  mental  action  of  the  pupil, — to  encour- 
age and  sympathize  with  his  efforts,  but  never  to 
supersede  them. 

After  a  while  Jacotot  presented,  in  the  form 
given  below,  the  result  of  his  meditations  on  the 
principles  involved  in  his  experiments.  This  pre- 
cept for  the  guidance  of  the  teacher,  is  in  fact— as 
will  be  at  once  seen — an  epitome  of  the  method 
of  the  learner,  and  indeed  of  all  learners,  whatever 


134         THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

be  their  age,  or  the  subject  they  may  wish  to  learn 
so  as  really  to  know. 

This,  then,  is  the  fundamental  precept  of  Jaco- 
tot's  method:—//  faut  apprendre  quelque  chose,  et 
y  rapporter  tout  le  reste;  i.e.,  the  pupil  must  learn 
something,  and  refer  all  the  rest  to  it.  When  fur- 
ther explanation  was  demanded,  he  would  reply  to 
this  effect : — 

(1).  Learn — i.e.,  learn  so  as  to  know  thoroughly, 
perfectly,  immovably  (imperturbablement),  as  well 
six  months  or  twelve  months  hence  as  now — some- 
thing, a  portion  of  a  book,  for  instance.  (2).  Eepeat 
that  something,  the  portion  learned,  incessantly — 
i.e.,  every  day  or  very  frequently  (sanscesse),  from 
the  beginning,  without  any  omission,  so  that  no 
part  of  it  be  forgotten.  (3)  Reflect  upon  the  mat- 
ter thus  acquired,  analyze  it,  decompose  it,  re- 
combine  the  elements,  make  it  a  real  mental  pos- 
session in  all  its  details,  interpret  the  unknown  by 
it.  (4),  Verify— test,  general  remarks — i.e.,  gram- 
matical and  other  rules — by  comparing  them  with 
the  facts — the  phraseology  and  constructions  which 
you  already  know.  In  brief,  learn,  repeat,  reflect, 
verify  ;  or  if  you  like,  learn,  verify,  repeat,  reflect ; 
so  that  you  learn  first,  the  order  of  the  other  pro- 
cesses is  unimportant.  Know  facts,  then;  bring 
all  the  powers  of  the  mind  to  bear  upon  them ;  and 
repeat  what  you  know,  to  prevent  its  being  lost. 
This  is  the  method  of  Jacotot,  which  may  be  other- 
wise represented  thus : — 

In  all  your  learning,  do  homage  to  the  authority 
of  facts. 

(1).  Apprenesf.— Learn  them  accurately;  grasp 
them  firmly;  apprehend,  so  as  to  know  them. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  135 

(2).  Eapportez, — Compare  them  with  each  other, 
interpret  one  by  another,  make  the  known  explain 
the  unknown,  generalize  them,  classify  them, 
analyze  them  into  their  elements,  re-combine  the 
elements,  attach  new  knowledge  to  the  pegs  al- 
ready fixed  in  your  mind. 

(3).  Eepetez, — Don't  let  the  facts  slip  away  from 
you.  To  lose  them,  is  to  waste  the  labor  you  spent 
in  acquiring  them.  Keep  them,  therefore,  contiAU- 
ally  before  you  by  repetition. 

(4).  Verifiez, — Test  general  principles,  said  to  be 
founded  on  them,  by  confronting  them  with  your 
facts.  Bring  your  grammatical  rules  to  the  facts, 
and  explain  the  facts  by  them. 

^  In  all  this  process,  the  pupil  is  employing  natural 
means  for  a  natural  end.  He  is  doing  what  he  did 
in  the  case  of  the  pile-driving  machine— observing, 
comparing,  investigating,  discovering,  inventing; 
and  if  we  apply  the  tests— Mr.  Marcel's  or  any 
other — of  a  good  method,  we  find  them  all  in  this, 
which  is  the  method  of  the  pupil,  teaching  himself 
under  the  direction  of  the  master. 

It  is,  in  short,  as  said  before,  the  method  by 
which  all  learners — ^whether  the  little  child  in 
nature's  infant  school,  or  the  adult  man  in  the 
school  of  science  —  learn  whatever  they  really 
know.  In  both  cases,  the  essential  basis  of  all  men- 
tal progress  is  a  knowledge  of  facts— a  knowledge 
which,  to  be  fruitful,  must  be  gained  at  first  hand> 
and  not  on  the  report  of  others,  must  be  strict  and 
accurate,  and  must  be  firmly  retained.  These  are 
the  essential  conditions  for  the  subsequent  opera- 
tions by  which  knowledge  is  appropriated,  assimil- 
ated, and  incorporated  with  the  organic  life  of  the 


136  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

mind.  On  this  point,  however,  I  cannot  further 
dwell. 

In  order  to  make  the  principles  of  Jacotot's  me- 
thod clearer  by  a  practical  example,  I  will  give,  in 
some  detail,  an  account  of  his  plan  of  teaching 
Eeading. 

In  this  method,  the  sacred  mysteries  of  ha,  ha  ; 
h-e,  he,  in  pronouncing  which,  Dr.  Bell  gravely  tells 
us,  ^'the  sound  is  an  echo  to  the  sense,"  are  alto- 
gether exploded ;  those  columns,  too,  all  symmetric- 
ally arranged  in  the  vestibule  of  the  temple  of 
knowledge,  to  the  dismay  of  the  young  pilgrim  to 
its  shrine,  are  entirely  ignored.  The  sphinx  of  the 
alphabet  never  asks  him  what  see-a-tee  spells,  nor 
devours  him  if  he  fails  to  give  the  impossible  an- 
swer, cat.  The  child  who  has  already  learnt  to 
speak  by  hearing  and  using  whole  words,  not  sepa- 
rate letters — saying  hahy,  not  hee-a,  hee-wy — has 
whole  words  placed  before  him.  These  words  are 
at  first  treated  as  pictures,  which  have  names  that 
he  has  to  learn  to  associate  with  the  forms,  in  the 
same  way  that  he  already  calls  a  certain  animal 
shape  a  cow,  and  another  a  dog,  and  knows  a  cer- 
tain face  as  mammals,  and  another  as  papa^s.  Sup- 
pose we  take  a  little  story,  which  begins  thus  : — 

''Frank  and  Robert  were  two  little  boys  about 
eight  years  old." 

There  is,  of  course,  a  host  of  reasons  to  show  the 
unreasonableness  of  beginning  to  teach  reading  by 
whole  words.  We  ought,  we  are  told,  to  begin  with 
the  elements,  put  them  together  for  the  child,  ar- 
range words  in  classes  for  him,  keep  all  difficulties 
out  of  his  way,  proceed  step  by  step  from  one  com- 
bination to  another,  and  so  on.    Reflecting,  how- 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  137 

ever,  that  Nature  does  not  teach  speaking,  nor 
give  her  object-lessons  in  this  way,  but  first  pres- 
ents wholes,  aggregates,  compounds,  which  her 
pupil's  analytic  faculty  resolves  into  their  elements, 
the  teacher  sets  aside  all  these  speculative  difficul- 
ties ;  and,  believing  in  the  native  capacity  of  the 
child  to  exercise  on  printed  words  the  same  powers 
which  he  has  already  exercised  on  spoken  words, 
forms  the  connection  between  the  two  by  saying  to 
the  child,  **Look  at  me"  (not  at  the  book).  He 
then  very  deliberately  and  distinctly,  but  without 
grimacing,  utters  the  sound  *'  Frank  "  two  or  three 
times,  and  gets  the  child  to  do  the  same  repeatedly, 
so  as  to  secure  from  the  first  a  clear  and  firm  arti- 
culation. He  then  points  to  the  printed  word,  re- 
peats *' Frank,  "and  requires  the  child,  in  view  of 
it,  to  utter  the  same  sound  several  times.  The 
first  word  is  learned  and  known.  The  teacher  adds 
'*  and."  The  child  reads  "  Frank  and."  The  teacher 
adds  *'Kobert."  The  child  reads  *' Frank  and 
Eobert."    The  teacher  asks  *'A^hichis  'Eobert?' 

*  and  V  What  is  that  word  ?"  (pointing  to  it),  ''and 
that?"  etc.    The  teacher  says,   *' Show  me  'and,' 

*  Eobert,'  *  Frank,'  in  the  same  page — in  any  page." 

The  same  process  is  repeated  with  the  rest  of  the 
words  of  the  sentence,  and  comes  out  thus  :— 

Frank 

Frank  and 

Frank  and  Eobert 

Frank  and  Eobert  were,  etc. ; 
the  pupil  is  told  each  word  once  for  all,  and  repeats 
from  the  beginning,  that  nothing  may  be  forgotten. 
By  thus  (1)  learning,  (2)  repeating,  he  exercises 
perception  and  memory. 


138  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

Suppose  that  the  next  sentences  are— 

"  One  day,  as  they  were  plaj  ing  in  the  garden, 
it  began  to  thunder  very  loud  and  to  rain  very 
hard. 

*'  So  they  ran  under  the  apple  tree." 

All  the  words  of  these  sentences  may  be  gradu- 
ally learned,  in  the  same  way,  in  four,  six,  or  ten 
lessons.  There  is  no  need  for  haste.  The  only 
thing  needful  is  accurate  knowledge — to  have  some- 
thing (quelque  chose)  thoroughly,  perfectly,  immov- 
able known  (imperturbablement  apprise). 

The  child  has  up  to  this  point  imitated  the  sounds 
given  him,  has  associated  them  with  the  signs,  has 
exercised  observation  and  memory ;  so  that  where- 
ever  he  meets  with  these  words  in  his  book,  the 
sign  will  suggest  the  sound— or  given  the  sound,  he 
will  at  once  point  out  the  sign. 

The  teacher  may  now,  if  he  thinks  fit,  begin  to 
exercise  the  child's  analytical  and  inductive  facul- 
ties ;  not,  however,  necessarily  on  any  symmetrical 
plan.  He  says,  ^*Look  at  me,"  and  pronounces 
very  distinctly  f-ranJc,  repeating  the  process  in 
view  of  the  printed  word.  He  does  the  same  with 
f-ond  and  f-ast,  and  asks  the  child,  *'  Which  letter 
is  /?"  (the  articulation,  not  the  name  ef).  The 
child  points  it  out,  and  in  this  wajf  (that  is,  the 
articulation,  the  power  of  it)  is  learned  and  known. 

The  teacher  covers  over  the  /  in  frank,  and  asks 
what  is  left.  The  child  replies  *'rank,"  The  teacher 
proceeds  as  before,  uttering  r-anh,  and  requiring 
the  child  to  read  for  himself  B-obert,  r-ain,  r-an, 
and  thus  the  articulation  of  initial  r  is  mastered. 
In  the  same  way  the  articulation  I  is  gained  from 
l-ittle  and  l-oud.    Nor  do  the  mutes,  as  b  and  p 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  139 

present  any  difficulty.  The  utterance  of  hoys^ 
h-oth^  b-alls,  b-egan,  suggests  the  necessary  config- 
uration of  the  organs,  and  the  function  of  these 
letters  is  appreciated. 

The  teacher  may  next,  if  he  pleases,  though  it  is 
not  necessary  to  anticipate  the  natural  results  of 
the  process,  try  the  synthetic  or  combining  powers 
of  the  child.  He  writes  on  a  blackboard,  in  print- 
ing letters,  the  words  foldy  falls,  fops,  fin,  found, 
fray,  ray,  rap,  lank,  flank,  last  loth,  lops,  let,  laid, 
lap,  bank,  bat,  bold,  bay,  blank,  etc.,  and  requires 
the  child,  without  any  help  whatever,  to  read  them 
himself.  Most  children  will  do  this  at  once.  If 
there  is  any  difficulty,  a  simple  reference  to  the 
words  Frank,  little,  boys,  etc.,  without  any  expla- 
nation, will  immediately  dispel  it. 

It  is  not  necessary,  I  repeat,  for  the  teacher  thus 
to  anticipate  the  inevitable  results  of  the  process. 
The  quickened  mind  of  the  pupil  will,  of  its  own 
accord,  analyse  and  combine,  in  its  natural  instinct 
to  interpret  the  unknown  by  the  known.  The  only 
essential  parts  of  the  process  are  learning  and  re- 
peating from  the  beginning;  all  the  rest  depends 
on  these.  And  in  guiding  the  mind  of  the  pupil  to 
the  intellectual  use  of  his  materials,  the  teacher 
should  be  under  no  anxiety  about  the  length  of  the 
process.  He  should  often  practice  a  masterly  inac- 
tivity ;  should  know  how  to  gain  time  by  losing  it 
—to  advance  by  standing  still.  If  he  have  a  gen- 
uine belief  in  the  native  capacity  of  his  pupils' 
minds,  he  need  have  no  fear  as  to  the  result.  The 
pupil  (1)  learning,  (2)  repeating,  (3)  reflecting — s.e,, 
analysing  or  de-composing,  (4)  re-combining,  is  all 
along  employing  his  active  powers  as  an  observer 


140  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

and  investigator,  and  learns  at  length  to  read  ac- 
curately and  to  articulate  justly.  The  name  of  the 
letters  may  be  given  him  when  he  has  thus  learnt 
their  powers.  It  is  a  convenience,  nothing  more, 
to  know  them.  The  young  carpenter  saws  and 
planes  no  better  for  knowing  the  names  of  his  tools. 

Such,  then,  is  Jacotot's  method  applied  to  the 
teaching  of  Eeading.  It  ought,  by  theory,  to  ac- 
complish this  object,  and  it  does.  While  philoso- 
phers are  discussing  the  propriety  of  learning  a 
subject  without  beginning  secundum  artem  at  what 
they  call  the  beginning,  the  child,  like  the  epic 
poet,  dashes  in  med  as  res,  and  arrives  at  the  end 
long  before  the  discussion  is  over.  A  young  inves- 
tigator of  this  school,  initiated  in  the  habit  of  ac- 
tively employing  his  mind  on  the  subject  of  study, 
laughs  at  the  ingenious  arrangements,  however 
kindly  meant,  furnished  by  various  spelling-book 
makers,  to  aid  him  in  his  career.  He  turns  aside 
from  ram,  rem,  rim,  rom,  rum—adge,  edge,  idge, 
odge,  and  udge, — indeed,  from  all  the  scientilic  per- 
mutations made  for  him  on  the  assumption  that  he 
cannot  make  them  himself.  He  is  told  that  there 
is  a  go-cart  provided  to  help  him  to  walk,— that  the 
food  is  ready  minced  for  his  eating  :  but  he  chooses 
to  walk  and  comminute  his  food  for  himself  ?  Why 
should  we  prevent  him  ? 

This  method  is  essentially  the  same  as  Mr.  Cur- 
wen's  **Look  and  Say  Method,"  and  that  of  the 
little  book  entitled  **Eeading  without  Spelling,  or 
the  Teacher's  Delight ;"  the  only  diiference  being 
that  the  teacher  here  employs  the  process  consci- 
ously as  a  means  of  developing  and  training  the 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  141 

mental  powers  as  well  as  of  teaching  to  read,  of 
education  as  well  as  of  instruction. 

My  pleasant  task  is  now  done.  I  have  left  much 
unsaid  that  I  wished  to  say;  and,  in  criticising 
others,  have,  no  doubt,  exposed  myself  to  criticism. 
As  that  is  the  common  lot,  I  ought  not  to  complain 
of  it.  I  will,  in  conclusion,  go  over  the  main  points 
which  I  have  touched  upon  in  the  three  lectures. 

In  my  first  Lecture  I  endeavored  to  show  that 
education  is  both  a  science  and  an  art,  and  that  the 
principle  science  account  for,  explain,  and  give 
laws  to  the  processes  of  the  art ;  that  the  educator's 
own  education  is  incomplete  without  a  knowledge 
of  these  principles,  which  are  ultimately  grounded 
on  those  of  Physiology,  Psychology,  and  Ethics; 
that  this  knowledge  is  useful,  not  only  in  its  appli- 
cation to  the  normal  phenomena  occurring  in  prac- 
tice, but  especially  to  the  abnormal,  which  demand 
for  their  treatment  all  the  resources  of  the  science ; 
that  knowledge  of  this  kiod  is  comparatively  rare 
amongst  educators,  and  that  its  rarity  is  the  main 
cause  of  the  unsatisfactory  condition  of  much  of 
our  education. 

In  the  second  Lecture,  assuming  the  education  of 
the  educator,  and  confining  myself  to  teaching,  or 
the  art  of  intellectual  education,  I  endeavored  to 
show  that  the  teacher  ought,  in  the  first  place,  to 
have  a  just  conception  of  his  relation  to  his  pupil ; 
that  this  was  gained  by  his  seeing  in  the  child  one 
who  had  learned,  or  taught  himself,  all  that  he  al- 
ready knew,  and  in  inferring,  therefore,  that  it 
was  his  business  to  continue  the  process  already 
begun ;  that  it  thus  appeared  that  the  child's  pro- 
cess of  learning  was,  to  a  great  extent,  a  guide  to 


142  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

the  teacher's  process  of  teaching,  and  that  the  joint 
operation  in  which  both  were  engaged  resolved  it- 
self into  the  superintendence,  or  direction,  by  the 
teacher,  of  the  pupil's  method  of  self -instruction. 

In  this  Lecture,  I  have  ^hown  that  a  method  of 
teaching  any  subject  is  a  special  mode  of  applying 
the  art  of  teaching ;  that  to  be  a  good  method,  it 
must  have  certain  characteristics,  deduced  from 
successful  practice,  and  ultimately  referable  to  the 
principles  of  the  science  of  education,  and  I  have 
described,  and  to  some  extent  criticised,  a  few  well- 
known  methods. 

My  simple  aim,  in  these  Lectures,  has  been  to 
lead  the  educator  to  form  a  high  idea  of  his  work ; 
to  show  that  there  are  principles  underlying  his 
practice  which  it  is  important  for  him  to  know, 
and  to  induce  him  to  study  and  apply  them,  not 
only  for  his  own  sake,  but  as  a  protest  against  the 
depotism  of  routine,  which  has  so  long  hindered 
education  from  claiming  its  professional  rights  in 
England.  I  trust  I  have  not  altogether  failed  to 
accomplish  my  purpose. 


PEINCIPLES  OF  THE  SCIENCE  OF 
EDUCATION. 

GENERAL  PRINCIPLES. 

1.  Every  child  is  an  organism,  furnished  by  the 
Creator  with  inherent  capabilities  of  action,  and 
surrounded  by  material  objects  which  serve  as 
stimulants  to  action. 

2.  The  channels  of  communication  between  the 
external  stimulants  and  the  child's  inherent  capa- 
bihties  of  action  are  the  sensory  organs,  by  whose 
agency  he  receives  impressions. 

3.  These  impressions,  or  sensations,  being  incapa- 
ble of  resolution  into  anything  simpler  than  them- 
selves, are  the  fundamental  elements  of  all  knowl- 
edge. The  development  of  the  mind  begins  with 
the  reception  of  sensations. 

4.  The  grouping  of  sensations  forms  perceptions,L 
which  are  registered  in  the  mind  as  conceptions  or  I 
ideas.*    The  development  of  the  mind,  which  be- 
gins with  the  reception  of  sensations,   is  carried 
onward  by  the  formation  of  ideas. 

5.  The  action  and  reaction  between  the  external 
stimulants  and  the  mind's  inherent  powers,  in- 

*  By  "  conception,"  or  "idea,"  is  meant  the  trace,  residuum,  or 
ideal  substitute  which  represents  the  real  perception. 

143 


144  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

volving  processes  of  development  t  and  implying 
growth,  may  be  regarded  as  constituting  a  system 
of  natural  education. 

6.  A  system  of  education  implies— (1)  an  educat- 
ing influence,  or  educator;  (2)  a  being  to  be 
educated,  or  learner;  (3)  matter  for  the  exercise 
of  the  learner's  powers ;  (4)  a  method  by  which  the 
action  of  these  powers  is  elicited ;  and  (5)  an  end 
to  be  accomplished. 

7.  In  the  case  before  us,  the  educating  influence, 
or  educator,  is  God,  represented  by  Nature,  or 
natural  circumstances;  the  bei  ig  to  be  educated, 
or  learner,  a  child;  the  matter,  the  objects  and 
phenomena  of  the  external  world ;  the  method,  the 
processes  by  which  this  matter  is  brought  into 
communication  with  the  learner's  mind ;  and  the 
object  or  end  in  view,  intellectual  development  and 
growth. 

In  view  of  the  different  agencies  concerned  in 
effecting  this  intellectual  education,  and  of  their 
mutual  relatior  ,  we  arrive  at  the  following : 

II.    PRINCIPLES  OF  NATURAL  EDUCATION. 

I.  Nature,  as  an  educator,  recognizes  throughout 
all  his  operations  the  inherent  capabilities  of  the 
learner.  The  laws  of  the  learner's  being  govern 
the  educator's  action,  and  determine  what  he  does, 
and  what  he  leaves  undone.  He  ascertains,  as  it 
were,  from  tho  child  himself  how  to  conduct  his 
education. 

II.  The  natural  educator  is  the  prime  mover  and 

I*  The  term  "  development"  is  here  employed  for  that  unfold- 
ing of  the  natural  powers  of  which  "growth  "  is  the  registered 
result. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  145 

director  of  the  action  and  exercise  in  which  the 
learner's  education  consists. 

III.  The  natural  educator  moves  the  learner's 
mind  to  action  by  exciting  his  interest  in  the  new, 
the  wonderful,  the  beautiful;  and  maintains  this 
action  through  the  pleasure  felt  by  the  learner  in 
the  simple  exercise  of  his  own  powers  -the  pleasure 
of  developing  and  growing  by  means  of  acts  of  ob- 
serving, experimenting,  discovering,  inventing, 
performed  by  himself —of  being  his  own  teacher. 

IV.  The  natural  educator  limits  himself  to  sup- 
plying materials  suitable  for  the  exercise  of  the 
learner's  powers,  stimulating  these  powers  to 
action,  and  maintaining  their  action.  He  co-oper- 
ates with,  but  does  not  supersede,  this  action. 

Y.  The  intellectual  action  nnd  exercise  in  which 
the  learner's  education  essentially  coQsists  are  per- 
formed by  himself  alone.  It  is  what  he  does  him- 
self, not  what  is  done  for  him,  that  educates  him. 

VI.  The  child  is  therefore  a  learner  who  educates 
himself  under  the  stimulus  and  direction  of  the 
natural  educator. 

VII.  The  learner  educates  himself  by  his  per- 
sonal experience ;  that  is,  by  the  direct  contact  of 
his  mind  at  first  hand  with  the  matter — object  or 
fact — ^to  be  learned. 

VIII.  The  mind,  in  gaining  knowledge  for  itself, 
proceeds  from  the  concrete  to  the  abstract,  from 
particular  facts  to  general  facts,  or  principles ;  and 
from  principles  to  laws,  rules  and  definitions,  and 
not  in  the  inverse  order. 

IX.  The  mind,  in  gaining  knowledge  for  itself, 
proceeds  from  the  indefinite  to  the  definite,  from 
the  compound  to  the  simple,  from  complex  aggre- 


146  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

gates  to  their  component  parts,  from  the  compon- 
ent parts  to  their  constituent  elements — hy  the 
method  of  Investigation.  It  employs  both  Analysis 
and  Synthesis  in  close  connection. 

X.  The  learner's  process  of  self -education  is  con- 
ditioned by  certain  laws  of  intellectual  action, 
These  are — (1)  the  Law  of  Consciousness;  (2)  of 
Attention,  including  that  of  Individuation,  or 
singling  out;  (3)  of  Kelativity,  including  those  of 

,  Discrimination  and  Similarity;  (4)  of  Ketentive- 
l  ness,  including  those  of  Memory  and  Eecollection; 
i  (5)  of  Association,  or  Grouping;  (6)  of  Eeiteration, 
1  or  Eepetition,  including  that  of  Habit. 

XI.  Memory  is  the  result  of  attention,  and  atten- 
tion is  the  concentration  of  all  the  powers  of  the 
mind  on  the  matter  to  be  learned.  The  art  of 
memory  is  the  art  of  paying  attention. 

XII.  Ideas  gained  by  personal  experience  are 
subjected  by  the  mind  to  certain  processes  of  elab- 
oration; as,  classification,  abstraction,  generahza- 
tion,  judgment,  and  reasoning.  These  processes 
imply  the  possession  of  ideas  gained  by  personal 
experience,  and  they  are  all  performed  by  the 
youngest  child  who  possesses  ideas. 

XIII.  The  learner's  knowledge  consists  in  ideas, 
gained  from  objects  and  facts  by  his  own  powers, 
and  consciously  possessed — not  in  tvords.  The  na- 
tural educator,  by  his  action  and  influence,  secures 
the  learner's  possession  of  clear  and  definite  pri- 
mary ideas.  Such  ideas,  so  gained,  are  necessarily 
incorporated  with  the  organic  life  of  the  learner's 
mind,  and  become  a  perm.anent  part  of  his  being. 

XIV.  Words  are  the  conventional  signs,  the  ob- 
tive  representatives,  of  ideas,  and  their   value  to 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  147 

the  learner  depends  on  his  previous  possession  of 
the  ideas  they  represent.  The  words,  witHout  the 
ideas,  are  not  knowledge  to  him. 

XV.  Personal  experience  is  the  condition  of  de- 
velopment,  whether  of  the  body,  mind,  or  moral 
sense.  What  the  child  does  himself,  and  loves  to 
do,  forms  his  habits  of  doing ;  but  the  natural  ed- 
ucator, by  developing  his  powers  and  promoting 
their  exercise,  also  guides  him  to  the  formation  of 
right  habits.  He  therefore  encourages  the  physi- 
cal development  which  makes  the  child  healthy  and 
robust,  the  intellectual  development  which  makes 
him  thoughtful  and  reasonable,  and  the  moral 
development  which  makes  him  capable  of  appreci- 
ating the  beautiful  and  the  good.  This  threefold 
development  of  the  child's  powers  tends  to  the 
formation  of  his  bodily,  mental,  and  moral  charac- 
ter, and  prepares  him  to  recognize  the  claims  of 
religion. 

XVI.  Education  as  a  whole  consists  of  develop- 
ment and  training,  and  may  therefore  be  defined 
as  ''cultivation  of  all  the  native  powers  of  the 
child,  by  exercising  them  in  accordance  with  ^the 
laws  of  his  being  with  a  view  to  development  and 
growth." 


The  above  general  facts  or  principles  being  the 
results  of  an  analytical  investigation  into  the 
nature  of  the  child  as  a  thinking  being,  and  into 
the  processes  by  which  his  earhest  education  is 
carried  on,  constitute  the  science  of  Natural  Edu- 
cation. 

But  as  it  is  the  same  mind  which  is  to  be  culti- 
vated throughout.  Natural  Education  is  the  pattern 


148  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

or  model  of  Formal  Education,  and  consequently 
the  science  of  Natural  Education  is  the  science  of 
Education  in  general. 

The  formal  educator  or  teacher,  therefore,  who 
professes  to  take  up  and  continue  the  education 
begun  by  nature,  is  to  found  his  scheme  of  action 
upon  the  above  principles,  and  in  supplementing 
the  natural  educator's  work,  he  is  to  proceed  on 
the  same  lines.  He  is  not  to  intrude  modes  of 
action  which  contravene  and  neutralize  the  prin- 
ciples of  natural  education. 

III.   THE  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

1.  Art  is  the  application  of  the  laws  of  Science  to 
a  given  subject  under  given  circumstances. 

2.  The  Aj*t  of  Education,  or  Teaching,  is  the 
explicit  display  of  the  implicit  principles  of  the 
Science  of  Education. 

3.  The  principles  already  stated  set  the  child  or 
pupil  before  us  as  one  who  gains  knowledge  for 
himself,  at  first  hand,  by  the  exercise  of  his  own 
native  powers,  through  personal  experience,  and 
therefore  as  a  learner  who  teaches  himself. 

4.  This  is  the  central  principle  of  the  Art  of 
Teaching.  It  serves  as  a  limit  to  define  both  the 
functions  of  the  formal  teacher,  and  the  nature 
of  the  matter  on  which  the  learners  powers  are 
first  to  be  exercised— that  is,  of  the  subject  of 
instruction. 

5.  The  limit  which  includes  also  excludes— it 
proscribes  as  well  as  prescribes.  The  teacher  who 
regards  the  child  as  a  learner  who  is  to  teach 
himself  through  personal  experience,  is  therefore 
interdicted  from  doing  anything  to  interfere  with 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  149 

the  learner's  own  method — from  telling,  cramming, 
explaining,  and  even  from  correcting,  merely  on 
his  own  authority,  the  learner's  blunders.  The 
function  assigned  him  by  the  Science  of  Education 
is  that  of  a  stimulator,  director,  and  superintendent 
of  the  learner's  work,  and  to  that  office  he  is  to 
confine  himself. 

6.  But  the  Hmit  in  question  determines  also  the 
character  of  the  matter  on  which  the  learner's 
powers  are  to  be  first  exercised.  If  he  is  to  teach 
himself,  he  can  only  do  so  by  exercising  his  mind 
on  concrete  objects  or  actions — on  facts.  These 
furnish  him  with  ideas.  He  cannot  teach  himself 
with  abstractions,  rules,  and  definitions,  packed 
up  for  him  in  words  by  others ;  for  these  do  not 
furnish  him  with  ideas  of  his  own.  In  all  that  he 
has  to  learn  he  must  begin  with  facts — that  is,  with 
personal  experience.  It  is  clear,  then,  that  the 
conception  of  the  learner  as  a  self -teacher  deter- 
mines both  the  manner  in  which  he  is  to  be  taught 
and  the  means. 

7.  This  notion  of  the  Art  of  Teaching,  which  has 
specially  in  view  the  period  of  the  child's  life  when 
the  formal  teacher  first  takes  him  in  hand,  in  order 
to  develop  and  train  his  mind,  is  capable  of  general 
appHcation.  It  applies  therefore,  with  the  requis- 
ite modifications,  to  instruction  properly  so  called, 
which  consists  in  the  orderly  and  systematic 
building  of  knowledge  into  the  mind,  with  a  defin- 
ite object. 

8.  The  teacher,  therefore,  educates  by  instruct- 
ing, and  instructs  by  educating.  Education  and 
instruction  are  different  aspects  of  th»  same  pro- 
cess. 


150  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

9.  The  sum  of  what  has  been  laid  down  is 
that  the  Art  of  Education  consists  in  the  practical 
appHcation  of  principles  gained  by  studying  the 
nature  of  the  child;  the  central  principle,  which 
governs  all  the  rest,  being  that  it  is  what  the  child 
does  for  and  by  himself  that  educates  him. 


THEORIES  OF  TEACHING  WITH  THEIR 
CORRESPONDING  PRACTICE. 

There  are,  as  we  know,  many  methods  of  teach- 
ing. There  are,  for  instance,  Ascham's,  Hamilton's, 
and  Ollendorf  s  method  of  teaching  languages,  and 
Pestalozzi's  and  Jacotot's  methods  of  teaching  gen- 
erally;  there  are  the  methods  of  the  old  Grammar 
School,  and  those  of  the  Dame  Schools,  and  of  the 
Kindergarten  and  a  great  many  others.  Each  of 
these  has  a  theory  which  underlies  it  and  accounts 
for  its  speciality.  Into  the  details,  however,  of 
various  methods  I  am  not  about  to  enter;  my  pur- 
pose is  the  more  geieral  one  of  endeavoring  to 
ascertain  the  leading  spirit  which  pervades  them 
all,  independently,  for  the  most  part,  of  the 
details. 

A  little  consideration  of  the  subject  will,  I  be- 
lieve, justify  us  in  taking,  as  the  criterion  of  this 
spirit,  the  aspect  under  which  we  regard  the  rela- 
tion of  the  teacher  to  the  pupil,  and  of  both  to  their 
joint  work.  One  teacher  may  regard  the  commu- 
nication of  his  own  ideas  to  his  pupil  as  his  proper 
and  special  function,  and  their  minds  as  a  sort 
tabula  rasa,  on  which  he  has  to  write  himself. 
According  to  this  theory,  he  will  then  treat  them 
merely  as  recipients,  and  will  carefully  tell  them 
151 


152  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

what  they  ought  to  receive,  and  how  they  ought 
to  receive  it.  In  placing  facts  before  them,  he  will 
tell  them  what  conclusions  they  are  to  draw  from 
them.  When  his  pupils  commit  faults  he  will  cor- 
rect them  himself  even  though  no  use  whatever  is 
made  of  the  corrections  by  them.  He  will  be  so 
careful  that  the  pupil  should  not  go  wrong  that  he 
will  continually  interfere  with  his  free  action,  by 
urging  him  to  aim  at  this  point  and  avoid  that— in 
short,  he  will  assume  that  the  ability  of  the  pupil 
to  observe,  compare,  reason,  think,  depends  almost 
entirely  upon  his  own  continual  telling,  showing, 
explaining,  and  thinking  for  him.  Such  a  teacher 
evidently  has  a  mean  opinion  of  the  pupil's  powers; 
he  assumes  that  they  cannot  work  without  the 
constant  intervention  of  his  own,  and  considers 
that  in  the  joint  operation  carried  on  by  himself 
and  his  pupil,  he  takes,  and  ought  to  take,  the 
larger  share. 

Another  teacher  entertains  a  very  different 
view  of  the  relation  he  sustains  to  his  pupil.  He 
sets  out,  indeed,  with  a  different  estimate  of  the 
pupil's  native  ability,  which  he  regards  as  com- 
petent to  observe  facts,  compare  them  together 
and  draw  inferences  respecting  them  without  any 
authoritative  inference  on  his  part.  He  sees  his 
native  faculty  at  work  in  daily  life,  and  therefore 
knows  that  it  can  be  employed  in  self -instruction. 
He  trusts  in  it,  therefore,  and  never  tells  the  pupil 
what  he  can  find  out  for  himself;  he  does  not  su- 
perfluously explain  relations  between  objects  or 
facts  which  explain  themselves  by  the  simple  jux- 
taposition of  the  objects  and  facts.  He  does  not 
correct  blunders  which   almost  invariably  arise 


THE  SCIENCE  ANB  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  153 

either  from  insufficient  knowledge  or  from  care- 
lessness: in  the  one  case  he  requires  the  pupil  to 
gain  the  knowledge  required,  or  leaves  the  blunder 
for  subsequent  correction ;  in  the  other  he  demands 
more  attention,  and  expects  the  pupil  to  correct 
his  own  blunders.  He  feels  no  inordinate  anxiety 
about  his  pupil's  occasional  errors  of  judgment, 
provided  that  his  mind  is  actively  engaged  in  the 
subject  under  instruction,  in  short,  seemg  that  the 
child  is  pursuing,  in  a  natural  way,  his  own  self - 
teaching,  he  is  anxious  not  to  supersede  his  efforts 
by  any  needless,  and  probably  injurious,  interfer- 
ence with  the  process.  He  judges,  therefore,  that 
in  the  joint  operation  referred  to  it  is  the  pupil  and 
not  himself  who  is  to  take  the  far  larger  share,  in- 
asmuch as  the  pupil's  ultimate  power  of  thinking 
will  be  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  the  teacher's  think- 
ing for  him. 

It  is  evident  that  these  different  conceptions  of 
the  relation  between  the  teacher  and  the  pupil  are 
not  easily  reconcilable  with  each  other,  and  that 
the  practical  results  must  be  respectively  very 
different.  These  results  I  will  not  now  endeavor 
to  estimate,  but  address  myself  to  my  immediate 
purpose,  which  is  to  maintain  the  latter  theory, 
and  to  show  that  learning  is  essentially  self- 
tuition^  and  teaching^  the  superintendence  of  the 
process;  and,  in  short,  that  compendiously  stated, 
the  essential  function  of  the  teacher  consists  in 
helping  the  pupil  to  teach  himself. 

It  may  be  worth  while  to  inquire  for  a  few  min- 
utes into  the  exact  meaning,  as  fixed  by  etymologi- 
cal considerations,  of  the  words  learn  and  teach. 
As  words  represent  ideas,  we  may  thus  ascertain 


154  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

what  conceptions  were  apparently  intended  to  be 
represented  by  these  or  equivalent  symbols.  Now 
it  does  seem  remarkable  that,  in  European  lan- 
guages at  least,  to  learn  means  to  gather  or  glean 
for  oneself — and  teach^  to  guide  or  superintend. 
In  no  cas  ethat  I  am  aware  of  do  these  words  im- 
ply a  correlation  of  receptivity  on  the  one  hand, 
with  communicativeness  on  the  other.  A  brief 
reference  to  the  facts  will  be  sufficient  to  show 
this.  I  take  the  word  learn  first,  because  learning 
must  precede  teaching.  Learn ^  in  the  earliest  form 
of  our  language,  which  we  erroneously  call  Anglo- 
Saxon  instead  of  Original  or  Primitive  English, 
was  leorn-ian,  a  derivative  of  the  simpler  form  Icer- 
an,  to  teach.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that  the 
longer  form  with  the  epenthetic  n  represents  a 
class  of  words  once  not  uncommon  in  Gothic  lan- 
guages, though  now  no  longer  recognized  in  prac- 
tice— I  mean  words  endued  in  themselves  with  the 
functions  of  reflective  or  passive  verbs.  Thus,  in 
Moeso- Gothic,  we  have  luJcan,  to  shut  or  lock  up, 
luknan,  to  lock  oneself  up,  or  to  be  locked  up; 
wak-an,  to  wake  another,  wakn-an,  to  wake  oneself, 
to  be  awake.  We  have  the  corresponding  awake 
and  awaken  ourselves.  If  this  analogy  be  correct, 
then  leorn-ian,  as  connected  with  Icer-an,  to  teach, 
means  to  teach  oneself  -i.e.,  to  learn.  As,  however, 
the  director  of  a  work  often  gets  the  credit  due  to 
his  subaltern,  so  the  person  who  directed  his  pupil 
to  do  his  work  of  teaching  himself  was  formerly 
said — and  the  usage  still  exists— to  Zearn  or  lam 
the  pupil.  In  nearly  all  European  languages,  this 
double  force  of  the  word  is  found.  Three  hundred 
years  ago  even  it  was  unquestionably  good  English 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  155 

to  say,  as  Cranmer  does  in  his  version  of  the  Psal- 
ter—'' Lead  me  forth  in  thy  truth  and  learn  me," 
and  as  Shakespeare  does  in  the  person  of  Caliban—- 
**the  red  plague  rid  you  for  learning  me  your  lan- 
guage." But  what  does  the  original  root  l(£r 
mean?  It  is  evidently  equivalent  to  the  Moeso- 
Gothic  lais  or  les  ;  s  being  interchangeable  with  r, 
as  we  see  in  the  Latin,  arbos,  arbor,  and  in  the 
German,  eisen,  compared  with  our  iron.  But  the 
Moeso- Gothic  lais  or  les  is  identical  with  the  Ger- 
man, les  or  lesen,  and  means  to  pluck,  gather,  ac- 
quire, read,  learn,  and  we  have  still  a  trace  of  it  in 
our  provincial  word  leasing — gleaning  or  gathering 
up.  The  primitive  meaning  then  of  the  root  leer, 
of  our  original  English  must  have  been  the  same 
as  that  of  the  Moeso-Gothic  les,  though,  for  reasons 
already  referred  to,  the  causative  sense  to  maJce  to 
gather,  acquire  or  learn,  must  have  been  very  early 
superadded.  On  the  whole,  then,  it  appears  suffi- 
ciently clear  that  to  learn  is  to  gather  or  glean  for 
oneself,  i.e.,  to  teach  oneself.  But  the  correlative 
teach  also  requires  a  moment's  consideration.  This 
is  derived  from,  or  equivalent  to,  the  original  Eng- 
lish, tcec  or  tcBch  (in  tsec-an  or  tsech-an),  to  the  Ger- 
man, zeig  (in  zeigen),  to  the  Moeso  Gothic  tech  (in 
techan),  to  the  Latin  doc  (in  docere)  or  die  in 
di(c)  score  (of  which  the  ordinary  form  is  discere) 
and  to  the  Greek  deiJc  (in  deiJcnumi).  This  common 
root  means  to  show,  point  out,  direct,  lead  the  way. 
The  same  idea  is  conveyed  by  the  French  equiva- 
lent montrer  and  enseigner,  both  meaning,  as  we 
know,  to  teach. 

The  etymology,  then,  in  both  instances  supports 
the  theory  that  learning  is  gathering  up  or  acquir- 


166  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

ing  for  oneself,  and  teaching^  the  guiding,  direct- 
ing, or  superintending  of  that  process. 

The  pupil,  then,  by  this  theory  is  to  advance  by 
his  own  efforts,  to  work  for  himself,  to  learn  for 
himself,  to  think  for  himself;  and  the  teacher's 
function  is  to  consist  mainly  in  earnest  and  sym- 
pathizing direction.  He  is  to  devote  his  knowledge, 
intelligence,  virtue  and  experience  to  that  object.  He 
has  himself  traveled  the  road  before  which  he  and  his 
young  companion  are  to  travel  together:  he  knows 
its  difficulties,  and  can  sympathize  with  the  strug- 
gles which  must  be  made  against  them.  He  will 
therefore  endeavor  to  gain  his  pupil's  confidence, 
by  entering  into  them,  and  by  suggesting  adequate 
motives  for  exertion  when  he  sees  the  needful 
courage  failing.  He  will  encourage  and  animate 
every  honest  and  manful  effort  of  his  pupil,  but, 
remembering  that  he  is  to  be  a  guide  and  not  a 
hearer^  he  will  not  even  attempt  to  supersede  that 
labor  and  exercise  which  constitute  the  value  of 
the  discipline  to  the  pupil,  and  which  he  cannot 
take  upon  himself  without  defeating  the  very  end 
in  view. 

It  is  worth  while  here  to  meet  a  plausible  objec- 
tion which  has  been  taken  against  this  view  of  the 
teacher's  function.  If,  it  is  said,  the  pupil  really 
after  all  learns  by  himself  without  the  intervention 
of  the  teacher's  mind  in  the  process— though  the 
intervention  of  his  moral  influence  is  strenuously 
insisted  on— then  this  superintendent  of  other  peo- 
ple's efforts  to  gain  knowledge  may  really  have 
none  himself ;  tHis  director  of  machinery  may 
know  nothing  of  niechanics.  This  objection  is 
pertinent  and  deserves  attention.    It  is  obvious 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  157 

that  the  teacher  who  is  really  able  to  enter  into  his 
pupil's  difficulties  in  learning,  effectively  ought  to 
be  well  furnished  with  knowledge  and  experience. 
Knowledge  of  the  subject  under  instruction  is  to 
be  required  of  the  teacher,  both  because  the  recog- 
nized possession  of  it  gives  him  weight  and  influ- 
ence, and  because  the  possession  of  a  large  store  of 
well  digested  knowledge  is  itself  distinct  evidence 
that  its  owner  has  gone  through  a  course  of  health- 
ful mental  discipline,  and  is^on  that  ground— ottier 
things  being  equal — a  fit  and  proper  person  to 
superintend  those  who  are  going  through  the  same 
discipline.  Knowledge  also  of  a  special  kind  he 
ought  to  have — that  derived  from  thoughtful 
study,  accompanied  by  practice,  of  the  machinery 
which  he  is  to  direct.  He  is  not,  by  the  assump- 
tion, himself  an  essential  part  of  it,  but  as  an  over- 
looker or  engineer  he  certainly  ought  to  be  ac- 
quainted with  its  nature  and  construction,  so  as  to 
be  able  to  estimate  its  working  power,  and  to  know 
when  to  start  and  when  to  stop  it,  to  prevent  both 
inaction  and  overaction.  A  teacher,  then,  without 
ome  knowledge  of  pyschology,  gained  both  sys- 
tematically and  by  experience  and  observation, 
could  hardly  be  considered  as  fully  equipped  for 
his  work.  But  I  need  not  dwell  further  on  this 
point,  though  I  could  not  well  leave  it  unnoticed. 

ft  appears,  then,  that  the  teacher  of  a  pupil  who 
teaches  himself  will  find  quite  enough  to  do  in  his 
work  of  superintendence  and  sympathy.  It  is  only 
as  far  as  the  mental  process  of  learning  that  the 
pupil  is  in  any  sense  independent  of  him. 

I  do  not  profess  to  describe  in  philosophic  terms 
what  the  mental  process  which  we  call  learning 


158  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

really  is,  but  it  is  necessary  for  my  argument  to 
maintain  that  whatever  it  Is,  it  can  no  more  be 
performed  by  deputy  than  eating,  drinting,  or 
sleeping,  and  further,  that  every  one  engaged  in 
performing  it  is  really  teaching  himseK.  If,  then, 
the  views  I  have  suggested  of  the  relation  between 
the  teacher  and  the  learner  be  generally  correct, 
and  the  latter  really  learns  by  teaching  himself,  it 
would  follow  that  if  we  could  only  ascertain  his 
method  as  a  learner,  we  should  obtain  the  true  ele- 
ments of  ours  as  teachers ;  or  in  other  words,  that 
the  true  principles  of  the  art  of  teaching  would  be 
educed  from  those  involved  in  the  art  of  learning, 
though  the  converse  is  by  no  means  true. 

The  establishment  of  these  principles  would  fur- 
nish us  with  a  test  of  the  real  value  of  some  of  the 
practices  in  current  use  amongst  teachers,  and 
perhaps  help  to  lay  the  foundation  of  that  teaching 
of  the  future,  which  will,  as  I  believe,  identify  self- 
tuition,  under  competent  guidance,  with  the  scien- 
tific method  of  investigation. 

But  I  must  endeavor  to  enlarge  the  field  of  in- 
quiry, and  show  that  self -tuition  under  guidance  is 
the  only  possible  method  in  the  acquirement  of 
that  elementary  instruction  which  is  the  common 
property  of  the  whole  himian  race.  Long  before 
the  teacher,  with  his  apparatus  of  books,  maps, 
globes,  diagrams,  and  lectures,  appears  in  the  field, 
the  child  has  been  pursuing  his  own  education  un- 
der the  direction  of  a  higher  teacher  than  any  of 
those  who  bear  the  technical  name.  He  has  been 
learning  the  facts  and  phenomena  which  stand  for 
words  and  phrases  in  the  great  book  of  Nature, 
and  has  also  learned  some  of  the  conventional  signs 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  159 

by  which  those  facts  and  phenomena  are  known  in 
his  mother-tongue. 

As  my  general  proposition  is  that  the  art  of 
teaching  should  be,  as  far  as  possible,  founded  on 
those  processes  by  which  Nature  teaches  those  who 
have  no  other  teacher — those  who  learn  by  them- 
selves—it is  important  to  glance  at  a  few  of  these 
processes. 

Nature's  earliest  lessons  consist  in  teaching  her 
pupils  the  use  of  their  senses.  The  infant,  on  first 
opening  his  eyes,  probably  sees  nothing.  A  glare 
of  light  stimulates  the  organ  of  sight,  but  makes  no 
distinct  impression  upon  it.  In  a  short  time,  how- 
ever, the  light  reflected  from  the  various  objects 
around  him  impinges  with  more  or  less  force,  upon 
the  eye  and  impresses  upon  it  the  images  of  things 
without,  the  idea  of  the  image  is  duly  transferred 
to  the  mind — and  thus  the  first  lesson  in  seeing  is 
given. 

This  idea  of  form  is,  however,  complex  in  its 
character,  which  arises  from  the  fact  that  the  ob- 
jects presented  to  his  attention  are  wholes  or  ag- 
gregates. He  learns  to  recognize  them  in  the  gross 
before  he  knows  them  in  detail.  He  has  no  choice 
but  to  learn  them  in  this  way.  No  child  ever  did 
learn  them  in  any  other  way.  Nature  presents 
him  with  material  objects  and  facts,  or  things  al- 
ready made  or  done.  She  does  not  invite  him,  in 
the  first  instance,  before  he  knows  in  a  general 
way  the  whole  object,  to  observe  the  constituent 
parts,  nor  the  manner  in  which  the  parts  are 
related  to  the  whole.  She  never,  in  condescension 
to  his  weakness  of  perception,  separates  the  aggre 
gate  in  its  component  elements— never  presents 


160  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

these  elements  to  his  consideration  one  by  one.  In 
short,  she  ignores  altogether  in  her  earliest  lessons 
the  synthetical  method,  and  insists  on  his  employ- 
ing only  the  analytical.  As  a  student  of  the  ana- 
lytical method  he  proceeds  with  his  investigations, 
observing  resemblances  and  differences,  comparing, 
contrasting,  and  to  some  extent  generalizing  (and 
thus  using  the  synthetical  process),  until  the  main 
distinctions  of  external  forms  are  comprehended, 
and  their  more  important  parts  recognized  as  dis- 
tinct entities,  to  be  subsequently  regarded  them- 
selves as  wholes  and  decomposed  into  their  constit- 
uent parts.  Thus  the  child  goes  on  with  Nature  as 
his  teacher,  learning  to  read  for  himself  and  by 
himself  the  volume  she  spreads  out  before  him, 
mastering  first  some  of  its  sentences,  then  its 
phrases  and  words,  and,  lastly,  a  few  of  its  separ- 
ate letters. 

So  with  regard  to  the  physical  properties  of  ob- 
jects as  distinguished  from  their  mechanical 
divisions  or  parts.  What  teacher  but  Nature 
makes  the  child  an  embryo  experimental  philoso- 
pher ?  It  is  she  who  teaches  him  to  teach  himself 
the  difference  between  hard  and  soft,  bitter  and 
sweet,  hot  and  cold.  He  lays  hold  of  objects  with- 
in his  reach,  conveys  them  to  his  mouth,  knocks 
them  against  the  cable  or  floor,  and  by  performing 
such  experiments  incessantly  gratifies,  instructs 
and  trains  the  senses  of  sight,  touch,  taste,  smell- 
ing, and  hearing.  At  one  time  a  bright  and  most 
attractive  object  is  close  at  hand.  It  looks  beauti- 
ful, and  he  wonders  what  it  can  be.  Nature  whis- 
pers, ''Find  out  what  it  is.  Touch  it."  He  puts 
his  fingers  obediently  into  the  flame,  bums  them, 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  161 

and  thus  makes  an  experiment,  and  gains  at  the 
the  same  time  an  important  experience  in  the  art 
of  living.  He  does  not,  however,  feel  quite  certain 
that  this  may  not  he  a  special  case  of  bad  luck.  He 
therefore  tries  again,  and  of  course  with  the  same 
result.  And  now,  reflecting  maturely  on  what  has 
taken  place,  he  begins  to  assume  that  not  only  the 
flame  already  tried,  but  all  flame  will  burn  him— 
and  thus  dimly  perceiving  the  relation  between 
cause  and  effect,  he  is  already  tracking,  though 
slowly  and  feebly,  the  footsteps  of  the  inductive 
philosophy.  Even  earlier  in  life— as  soon,  indeed, 
as  he  was  born,  as  Professor  Tyndall  remarks — 
urged  by  the  necessity  of  doing  something  for  his 
living,  he  improvised  a  suction-pump,  and  thus 
showed  himself  to  be,  even  from  his  birth,  a  stu- 
dent of  practical  science. 

These  instances  will  serve  to  show  that  Nature's 
earliest  lessons  are  illustrations  of  the  theory,  that 
teaching  essentially  consists  in  aiding  the  pupil  to 
teach  himself.  The  child's  method  of  learning  is 
evidently  self -tuition  under  guidance,  and  nothing 
else.  He  learns,  ^.e.,  gathers  up,  acquires,  knows  a 
vast  number  of  facts  relating  to  things  about  him ; 
and,  moreover,  by  imitation  solely,  he  gains  a 
practical  acquaintance  with  the  arts  of  walking, 
seeing,  hearing,  etc.  Who  has  taught  him  ?  Na- 
ture— himself — practically  they  are  one.  In  the 
ordinary  sense,  indeed,  of  the  word  teaching.  Na- 
ture has  not  taught  him  at  all.  She  has  given  him 
no  rules,  no  laws,  no  abstract  principles,  no  formu- 
lae, no  grammar  of  hearing,  seeing,  walking,  or 
talking ;  she  simply  gave  the  faculty,  supplied  the 
material,  and  the  occasion  for  its  exercise,  and  her 


1G2  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

pupil  learnt  to  do  hy  doing.  This  is  what  Nature, 
the  teacher,  the  guide,  the  directrix,  did.  But 
something  more  she  did,  or  rather  in  her  wisdom 
left  undone.  When  her  pupil,  through  careless- 
ness and  heedlessness,  failed  to  see  what  was  before 
him,  when  he  blundered  in  his  walking  or  talking; 
she  neither  interposed  to  correct  his  blunders,  nor 
indulged  in  outcries  and  objurgations  against  him. 
She  bided  her  opportunity.  She  went  on  teaching, 
he  went  on  learning,  and  the  blunders  were  in  time 
corrected  by  the  pupil  himself.  Even  when  he  was 
about  to  burn  his  fingers,  it  was  no  part  of  her 
plan  to  hinder  him  from  learning  the  valuable 
lessons  taught  by  the  ministry  of  pain.  Perhaps 
in  these  respects,  as  weU  as  in  so  many  others, 
teachers  of  children  might  learn  something  from 
the  example  of  their  great  Archididascalos. 

But  it  will  be  objected  that  Nature's  wise,  au- 
thoritative teaching  can  be  no  guide  for  us.  She 
teaches  by  the  law  of  exigency,  and  her  pupil  must 
perforce  learn  whether  he  will  or  not.  In  the 
society  in  which  we  live  there  is  no  such  impera- 
tive claim,  and  the  teacher,  who  appears  as  Na- 
ture's deputy,  can  neither  wield  her  authority  nor 
adopt  her  methods.  In  reply  to  this  objection  it 
may  be  urged  that  Society's  claims  upon  her  mem- 
bers are  scarcely  less  imperative  than  Nature's, 
and  that  the  deputy  can,  and  ought  to,  act  out  his 
superior's  principles  of  administration. 

Suppose,  then,  for  instance,  that  Society  requires 
that  a  child  should  learn  to  read.  In  this  case, 
certainly,  Nature  will  not  intervene  to  secure  that 
special  instruction,  but  the  method  adopted  by  her 
deputy  may  be,  and  ought  to  be,  founded  on  hers. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  163 

Every  principle  of  Nature's  teaching  is  violated  in 
the  ordinary  plan  of  commencing' with  the  alpha- 
bet. Nature,  as  I  have  already  said  or  impHed, 
sets  no  alphabet  whatever  before  her  pupil ;  nor  is 
there  in  the  teaching  of  Nature  anything  that  even 
suggests  such  a  notion  as  learning  A,  B,  C  Na- 
ture's teaching,  it  cannot  be  too  frequently  repeat- 
ed, is,  at  first  analytical,  not  synthetical,  and  the 
essence  of  it  is  that  the  pupil  makes  the  analysis 
himself. 

Our  ordinary  teacher,  however,  in  defiance  of 
Nature,  commences  his  instructions  in  the  art  of 
reading  with  A,  B,  C,  pointing  out  each  letter,  and 
at  the  same  time  uttering  a  sound  which  the  child 
is  expected  to  consider  as  the  sound  always  to  be 
associated  with  that  sign.  At  length,  after  many  a 
groan,  the  alphabet  is  learned  perfectly  and  the 
teacher  proceeds  to  the  combinations.  He  points 
to  a  word,  and  the  pupil  says,  letter  by  letter,  hee- 
a-tee,  and  then,  naturally  enough,  comes  to  a  dead 
stop.  His  work  is  done.  Neither  he  nor  Sir  Isaac 
Newton  in  his  prime,  could  take  the  next  expected 
step  and  compoimd  these  elements  into  bat.  The 
sphynx  who  proposes  the  riddle  may  indeed  look 
menacingly  for  the  answer,  but  by  no  possible 
chance  can  she  get  it.  The  teacher  then  comes  to  the 
rescue,  utters  the  sound  bat,  which  the  child  duly 
repeats,  and  thus  the  second  stage  in  reading  is  ac- 
complished. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  only  rational  and 
sensible  feature  in  this  process  is  the  utterance  and 
echo  of  the  sound  bat  in  view  of  the  word  or  sign, 
and  if  the  teacher  had  begun  with  this,  and  not 
confused  the  child  by  giving  him  the  notion  that 


164  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

he  was  learning  a  sounds  when  he  was  in  fact 
learning  nothing  but  a  name^  Nature  would  have 
approved  of  the  lesson,  as  analogous  to  those  given 
by  herself.  She  might  also  have  asked  the  teacher 
to  notice  that  the  child  learns  to  speak  by  hearing 
and  using  whole  words.  Nobody  addresses  him  as 
bee-a-bee-wy^  nor  does  he  say  em-a-em-em-a.  He,  in 
fact,  deals  with  aggregates,  compares  them  together, 
exercises  the  analytical  faculty  upon  them,  and 
employs  the  constituent  elements  which  he  thus  ob- 
tains in  ever  new  combinations.  There  can  be  no 
doubt,  then,  that  the  child  learns  to  speak  by  im- 
itation, analysis,  and  practice.  Why  not,  then, 
says  Nature,  let  him  learn  reading  in  the  same 
way  ?  Let  him  in  view  of  entire  words  echo  the 
sound  of  them  received  from  the  teacher;  let  him 
learn  them  thoroughly  as  wholes,  let  him  by  anal- 
ysis separate  them  into  their  syllables,  and  the  syl- 
lables into  their  letters,  and  it  will  be  found  that  the 
phonic  faculty  of  the  compound  leads  surely  and 
easily  to  that  of  its  separate  parts.  The  fact  that 
our  orthography  is  singularly  anomalous  is  an  ar- 
gument for,  rather  than  against,  the  adoption  of 
this  plan  of  teaching  to  read. 

In  pursuing  this  only  natural  method  of  instruc- 
tion we  notice  that  the  pupil  frequently  repeats  the 
same  process,  going  over  and  over  the  same  ground 
until  he  has  mastered  it,  and  as  in  learning  to  walk 
he  often  stumbled  before  he  walked  freely,  and 
in  learning  to  talk  often  blundered  and  stammered 
before  he  used  his  tongue  readily,  so  while  learning 
to  read  in  Nature's  school,  he  will  make  many  a 
fruitless  attempt,  be  often  puzzled,  often  for  awhile 
miss  his  path,  yet  all  the  while  he  is  correcting  his 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  165 

errors,  by  added  knowledge  and  experience,  sharp- 
ening his  faculties  by  practice,  teaching  himself  by 
his  own  active  efforts,  and  not  receiving  passively 
the  explanations  of  others ;  deeply  interested  too  in 
discovering  for  himself  that  which  he  would  be  even 
disgusted  with  if  imposed  upon  him  by  dogmatic 
authority,  he  is  trained,  even  from  the  very  begin- 
ning, in  the  method  of  investigation.  I  cannot  but 
look  upon  him  as  illustrating  faithfully  and  fairly 
in  his  practice  the  theory  that  learning  is  self -tui- 
tion under  competent  guidance,  and  that  teaching 
is,  or  ought  to  be,  the  superintendence  of  the  pro- 
cess. 

Did  time  permit  I  could  give  many  illustrations 
of  the  interest  excited,  and  the  efficiency  secured, 
by  this  method  of  teaching  reading.  For  example, 
I  have  seen  and  heard  children  earnestly  petition- 
ing to  be  allowed  to  pursue  their  lessons  in  reading, 
after  a  short  experience  of  it,  by  what  they  called 
the  *'find  out  plan."  It  was  known  to  me  more 
than  forty  years  ago,  as  a  part  of  Jacotot's  once 
renowned  **Enseignement  Universel,"  and  I  then 
put  it  to  the  severest  test.  It  is  also  substantially 
contained  in  Mr.  Curwen's  **Look  and  Say  meth- 
od," in  the  little  book  entitled  '*  Eeading  without 
Spelling,  or  the  Scholar's  Delight,"  and  in  articles 
by  Mr.  Dunning  and  Mr.  Baker,  of  Doncaster,  in 
the  Quarterly  Journal  of  Education  for  1834.  A 
natural  method,  like  others,  requires  of  course  to 
be  judiciously  directed,  and  the  teacher's  especial 
duty  is  in  this,  as  in  other  methods,  to  maintain  the 
interest  of  the  lesson,  and  above  aU,  to  get  the  pu- 
pil, however  young  he  may  be,  to  think;  especially 
as,  according  to  the  principles  already  laid  down, 


166  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

it  is  rather  the  pupil  who  learns  than  the  master 
who  teaches.  As  a  case  in  point  I  quote  a  passage 
from  the  life  of  Lord  Byron.  Speaking  of  a  school 
he  was  in  when  five  years  of  age,  he  says,  *'I 
learned  little  there  except  to  repeat  by  rote  the  first, 
lesson  of  monosyllables,  ^  God  made  man,  let  us 
love  him,  etc,' by  hearing  it  often  repeated  with- 
out acquiring  a  letter.  Whenever  proof  was  made 
of  my  progress  at  home,  I  repeated  these  words, 
with  the  most  rapid  fluency,  but  on  turning  over  a 
new  leaf,  I  continued  to  repeat  them,  so  that  the 
narrow  boundaries  of  my  first  year's  accompHsh- 
ments  were  detected,  my  ears  boxed  (which  they 
did  not  deserve,  seeing  that  it  was  by  ear  only  that 
I  had  acquired  my  letters),  and  my  intellects  con- 
signed to  a  new  preceptor."  This  case,  however, 
proves  only  that  Byron  had  not  been  directed  in 
teaching  himself,  and  that  he  was  not  a  pupil  of 
the  analytical  method.  His  mind  had  taken  no 
cognizance  of  the  acquisitions  which  he  had 
mechanically  made. 

Another  instance,  much  more  to  the  point,  is 
suppHed  in  a  passage  which  I  extracted  many 
years  ago  from  a  Report  of  the  Gaelic  School  So- 
ciety, and  which  contains  a  most  valuable  lesson 
for  the  teachers  of  reading.  ' '  An  elderly  female  in 
the  parish  of  Edderton  was  most  anxious  to  read 
the  Scriptures  in  her  native  tongue.  She  did  not 
even  know  the  alphabet,  and  of  course  she  began 
with  the  letters.  Long  and  zealously  she  strove  to 
acquire  these,  and  finally  succeeded.  She  was 
then  put  into  the  syllable  class,  in  which  she  con- 
tinued some  time,  but  made  so  little  progress  that, 
with  a  breaking  heart,  she  retired  from  the  school. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  167 

The  clergyman  of  the  parish,  on  being  made  ac- 
quainted with  these  circumstances,  advised  the 
teacher  to  send  for  her  again,  and  instead  of  trying 
her  with  syllables,  to  which  she  could  attach  no 
meaning,  to  give  her  the  sixth  Psalm  at  once. 
This  plan  succeeded  to  admiration ;  and  when  the 
school  was  examined  by  a  committee  of  presbytery, 
she  read  the  thirty  seventh  Psalm  in  a  manner 
that  astonished  all  present."  Whether  this  impor- 
tant discovery— for  it  was  nothing  less— was  made 
practically  available  in  the  teaching  of  the  parish 
of  Edderton  I  do  not  know;  but  I  should  not  be 
surprised  to  find  that  the  good  old  A,  B,  C,  and  the 
cabalistical  b-a,  ba;  b-e,  be, — in  which  Dr.  Andrew 
Bell  gravely  tells  us  **the  sound  is  an  echo  to  the 
sense  .'"—is  still  going  on  there  as  at  the  beginning. 
I  have  detained  you  long  over  the  practical  illus- 
tration contained  in  this  method  of  teaching  to 
read,  because  it  really  is  a  complete  application  of 
the  theory  which  I  advocate,  and  involves  such 
principles  as  these  which  I  state  with  the  utmost 
brevity  for  want  of  time : — 

1.  The  pupil,  teaching  himself,  begins  with  tangi- 
ble and  concrete  facts  which  he  can  compre- 
hend, not  with  abstract  principles  which  he 
cannot. 

2.  He  employs  a  method— the  analytical— which 
lies  in  his  own  power,  not  the  synthetical, 
which  mainly  requires  application  ab  extra, 

3.  His  early  career  is  not  therefore  impeded  by 
needless  precepts,  and  authoritative  dogmas. 

4.  He  learns  to  become  a  discoverer  and  explorer 
on  his  own  account,  and  not  merely  a  passive 


168  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

recipient  of  the  results  of  other  people's  dis- 
coveries, 

5.  He  takes  a  degree  of  pleasure  in  the  discov- 
eries or  acquisitions  made  by  himself,  which 
he  cannot  take  in  those  made  by  others. 

6.  In  teaching  himself  he  proceeds— he  can  only 
proceed — in  proportion  to  his  strength,  and 
is  not  perplexed  and  encumbered  by  explana- 
tions, which,  however  excellent  in  themselves, 
may  not  be  adapted — generally  are  not  adapt- 
ed— to  the  actual  state  of  his  mind. 

7.  He  consequently  proceeds  from  the  known  to 
the  unknown. 

8.  The  ideas  that  he  thus  gains  will,  as  natural 
sequences  of  those  already  gained  by  the  same 
method,  be  clear  and  precise  as  far  as  they  go, 
his  knowledge  will  be  accurate,  though  of 
course  very  limited,  because  it  is  his  own. 

9.  By  teaching  himself,  and  relying  on  his  own 
powers  in  a  special  [case,  he  acquires  the  fa- 
culty of  teaching  himself  generally — a  faculty 
the  value  of  which  can  hardly  be  overrated. 

If  these  principles  are  involved  in  the  method  of 
self -tuition  they  necessarily  define  the  measure  and 
limit  of  the  teacher's  function,  and  show  us  what 
the  art  of  teaching  ought  to  be.  They  seem  also  to 
render  it  probable  that  much  that  goes  under  the 
name  of  teaching  rather  hinders  than  helps  the 
self -teaching  of  the  pupil.  The  assmnption  of  the 
pupil's  inability  to  learn  except  through  the  mani- 
fold .explanations  of  the  teacher  is  inconsistent 
with  this  theory,  not  less  so  is  the  universal  prac- 
tice of  making  technical  definitions,  abstract  prin- 
ciples, scientific  rules,  etc.,  form  so  large  a  portion 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART*  OP  EDUCATION.  169 

of  the  pabulum  of  the  youthful  mind.  The  super- 
intending teacher  by  no  means  however  despises 
definitions,  principles  and  rules,  but  he  introduces 
them  when  the  pupil  is  prepared  for  them,  and 
then  he  gets  him  to  frame  them  for  himself.  The 
self -teaching  student  has  no  power  to  anticipate  the 
time  when  these  deductions  from  facts — for  such 
they  all  ultimately  are— will,  by  the  natural  course 
of  mental  development,  take  their  proper  place  in 
the  course  of  instruction,  and  any  attempt  to  force 
him  to  swallow  them  merely  as  intellectual  boluses 
prematurely  can  only  end  in  derangement  of  the 
digestive  organs.  His  mind  can  digest,  or  at  least 
begin  to  digest,  facts  which  he  sees  for  himself,  but 
not  definitions  and  rules  which  he  has  had  no  share 
in  making.  He  cannot,  in  the. nature  of  things, 
assume  the  conclusions  of  others  drawn  from  facts 
of  which  he  is  ignorant  as  his  conclusions,  and  he 
is  not  therefore  really  instructed  by  passively  re- 
ceiving them. 

Those  who  take  a  different  view  from  this  of 
teaching  sometimes  plead  that  inasmuch  as  rules 
and  principles  are  compendious  expressions  repre- 
senting many  facts,  the  pupil  does  in  learning 
them  economize  time  and  labor.  Experience  does 
not,  however,  support  this  view,  but  it  is  rather 
against  it.  The  elementary  pupil  cannot,  if  he 
would,  comprehend  for  instance  the  metaphysical 
distinctions  and  definitions  of  grammar.  They  are 
utterly  unsuited  to  his  stage  of  development,  and 
if  violently  intruded  into  his  mind  they  cannot  be 
assimilated  to  its  substance,  but  must  remain  there 
as  crude  undigested  matter  until  the  system  is 
prepared  for  them.    When  that  time  arrives,  he 


170  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

will  welcome  those  compendious  generalizations  of 
facts  which  when  prematurely  offered  he  rejected 
with  disgust.  Stuffing  a  pupil  with  ready-made 
rules  and  formulse  may  perhaps  make  an  adept  in 
cramming,  but  is  cramming  the  be-all  and  the  end- 
all  of  education  ? 

But  T  must  furl  my  sails  and  make  for  land. 
The  idea  which  I  have  endeavored  to  give  of  the 
true  relation  of  the  pupil  to  the  teacher,  and  which 
represents  the  former  as  carrying  on  his  own  self- 
tuition  under  the  wise  superintendence  of  the  lat- 
ter, is  of  course  not  new.  Nothing  strictly  new 
can  be  said  about  education.  The  elements  of  it 
may  easily  be  found  in  the  principles  and  practice 
of  Ascham,  Montaigne,  Eatich,  Milton,  Comenius, 
Locke,  Eousseau,  Pestalozzi,  Jacotot,  and  Herbert 
Spencer.  Those  who  are  interested  in  the  subject 
may  find  an  account  of  the  views  and  methods  of 
these  eminent  men  in  Mr.  Quick's  valuable  little 
book  on  Educational  Reformers.  All,  in  fact,  who 
have  insisted  on  the  great  importance  of  ehciting 
the  pupil's  own  efforts,  and  not  superseding,  en- 
feebling, and  deadening  them  by  too  much  telling 
and  explaining— all,  too,  who  have  urged  that  ab- 
stract rules  and  principals  should,  in  teaching, 
follow,  not  precede,  the  examples  on  which  they 
are  founded,  have  virtually  adopted  the  theory 
which  I  have  endeavored  to  state  and  illustrate. 
They  have,  in  substance,  admitted  that  the  teach- 
er's function  is  defined  by  a  true  conception  of  the 
mental  operation  which  we  call  learning,  and  that 
that  operation  is  radically  and  essentially  the 
work  of  the  pupil,  and  cannot  be  performed  for 
him. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  171 

If  I  have  succeeded  at  all  in  the  development  of 
my  theory,  it  must  be  obvious  that  a  pupil  thus 
trained  must  be  a  more  accurate  observer,  a  more 
skillful  investigator,  more  competent  to  deal  with 
subjects  of  thought  in  an  intelHgent  way;  in  a 
word,  a  more  awakened  thinker,  than  one  trained 
in  accordance  with  the  opposite  theory.  The  pro- 
cess he  goes  through  naturally  tends  to  make  him 
such,  and  to  prepare  him  to  appreciate  and  adopt 
in  his  subsequent  career  the  methods  of  science. 
It  is  the  want  of  that  teaching  which  comes  from 
himself  that  makes  an  ordinary  pupil  the  slave  of 
technicalities  and  routine,  that  prevents  him  from 
grappling  with  a  common  problem  of  arithmetic  or 
algebra,  unless  he  happens  to  remember  the  rule, 
and  from  demonstrating  a  geometrical  proposition 
if  he  forgets  the  diagram;  which  evea,  though  he 
may  be  a  scholar  of  Eton  or  Harrow,  leaves  him 
destitute  of  power  to  deal  at  sight  with  a  passage 
of  an  easy  Greek  or  Latin  author.  In  the  great 
bulk  of  our  teaching,  with  of  course  many  and 
notable  exceptions,  the  native  powers  of  the  pupil 
are  not  made  the  most  of;  and  hence  his  knowl- 
edge, even  on  leaving  school,  is  too  generally  a 
farrago  of  facts  only  partially  hatched  into  prin- 
ciples, mingled  in  unseemly  jumble  with  rules 
scarcely  at  all  understood,  exceptions  claiming 
equal  rank  with  the  rules,  definitions  dislocated 
from  the  objects  they  define,  and  technicahties 
which  clog  rather  than  facilitate  the  operations  of 
the  mind. 

A  sHght  exercise  of  our  memories,  and  a  slight 
glance  at  the  actual  state  of  things  among  us,  will, 
I  believe,  witness  to  the  substantial  truth  of  this 


172  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

statement.  If,  however,  we  want  other  testimony, 
we  may  find  it  in  abundance  in  the  ^Eeports  and 
evidence  of  the  four  Commissions  which  have  in- 
vestigated the  state  of  education  among  us ;  if  we 
want  more  still,  we  may  be  supplied— not,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  to  our  heart's  content,  but  discon- 
tent— in  the  reports  of  intelligent  official  observers 
from  abroad.  If  we  want  more  stiU,  let  us  read 
the  petitions  only  lately  presenteij  to  the  House  of 
Commons  from  the  highest  medical  authorities 
who  complain  that  medical  education  is  rendered 
abortive  and  impossible  by  the  wholly  unsatisfac- 
tory results  of  middle-class  teaching.  Does  it  ap- 
pear unreasonable  to  suppose  that  such  a  chorus  of 
dispraise  and  dissatisfaction  could  not  be  raised 
unless  there  were  something  in  the  methods  of 
teaching  which  naturally  leads  to  the  results  com- 
plained of  ?  If  the  quality  of  the  teaching — I  am 
not  considering  the  quantity— is  not  responsible 
for  the  quality  of  its  results,  I  really  do  not  know 
where  we  are  to  find  the  cause,  and  failing  in  de- 
tecting the  cause,  how  are  we  to  begin  even  our 
search  for  the  remedy  ?  Theories  of  teaching  which 
distrust  the  pupiFs  native  ability,  which  in  one 
way  or  other  repress,  instead  of  aiding,  the  natural 
development  of  his  mind,  which  surfeit  him  with 
technicalities,  which  impregnate  him  with  vague 
infructuous  notions  that  are  never  brought  to  the 
birth,  that  cultivate  the  lowest  faculties  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  highest,  that  make  him  a  slave  to  the 
Rule-of -Thumb  instead  of  a  master  of  principles- 
are  these  theories,  which  have  done  much  of  the 
mischief,  to  be  still  relied  on  to  supply  the  reform 
we  need  ?    Or  shall  we  find,  at  least,  some  of  the 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  173 

germs  of  future  life  in  the  other  theory,  which 
from  the  first  confides  in,  cherishes,  and  encour- 
ages the  native  powers  of  the  child,  and  takes  care 
that  his  acquisitions,  however  small,  shall  be  made 
by  himself,  and  secures  their  possession  by  repeti- 
tion and  natural  association,  which  invests  his 
career  with  the  vivid  interest  which  belongs  to 
that  of  a  discoverer  and  explorer  of  unknown 
lands,  which,  in  short,  to  adopt  the  striking  words 
of  Burke,  instead  of  serving  up  to  him  barren  and 
lifeless  truths,  leads  him  to  the  stock  on  which  they 
grew,  which  sets  him  on  the  track  of  invention, 
and  directs  him  into  those  paths  in  which  the  great 
authorities  he  follows  made  their  own  discoveries  ? 
Is  a  theory  which  involves  such  principles,  and 
leads  to  such  results,  worth  the  consideration  of 
those  who  regard  education  as  pre-eminently  the 
civilizing  agent  of  the  world,  and  lament  that  Eng- 
land, as  a  nation,  is  so  little  fraught  with  its 
spirit  ? 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  TRAINING  OF 
THE  TEACHER, 

In  maintaining,  however,  generally  that  the 
professor  of  an  art  should  understand  its  prin- 
ciples, and  that  he  cannot  understand  them  with- 
out study  and  training,  I  do  not  mean  to  assert 
that  there  may  not  be  found  among  those  who 
feel  themselves  suddenly  called  upon  to  act  as 
teachers,  especially  among  women,  many,  who 
without  obvious  preliminary  training,  are  really 
already  far  advanced  in  actual  training  for  the 
task  they  assume.  In  these  cases,  superior  mental 
culture,  acute  insight  into  character,  ready  tact 
and  earnest  sympathy  constitute,  pro  tanto,  a 
real  preparation  for  the  profession;  and  supply, 
to  a  considerable  extent,  the  want  of  technical 
training.  To  such  persons  it  not  unf requently 
happens  that  a  matured  consciousness  of  the  im- 
portance of  the  task  they  have  undertaken,  and 
actual  contact  with  the  work  itself,  rapidly  sug- 
gest what  is  needed  to  supplement  their  inexperi- 
ence. Such  cases,  however,  as  being  rare  and 
exceptional,  are  not  to  be  relied  on  as  examples. 
Even  in  them,  moreover,  a  thoughtful  study  of 
the  Science  of  Education,  and  of  the  correlated 
Art,  would  guide  the  presumed  faculty  to  better 
results  than  can  be  gained  without  it. 
174 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  175 

We  can  have  little  hesitation  then  in  asserting 
that  the  pretension  to  be  able  to  teach  without 
knowing  even  what  teaching  means ;  without  mas- 
tering its  processes  and  methods  as  an  art ;  without 
gaining  some  acquaintance  with  its  doctrines  as  a 
sc  ience ;  without  studying  what  has  been  said  and 
done  by  its  most  eminent  practitioners,  is  an  un- 
warrantable pretension  which  is  so  near  akin  to 
empiricism  and  quackery,  that  it  is  difficult  to 
make  the  distinction. 

There  are,  however,  two  or  three  fallacious  argu- 
ments sometimes  urged  against  the  preliminary 
training  of  the  teacher  which  it  is  important 
briefly  to  discuss. 

The  first  is,  that  **  granting  the  need  of  such 
training  for  teachers  of  advanced  subjects,  it  is 
imnecessary  for  the  teaching  of  elementary  sub- 
jects. Anybody  can  teach  a  child  to  read,  write 
and  cipher."  This  is,  no  doubt,  true,  if  teaching 
means  nothing  more  than  mechanical  drill  and 
cram ;  but  if  teaching  is  an  art  and  requires  to  be 
artistically  conducted,  it  is  not  true.  A  teacher  is 
one  who,  having  carefully  studied  the  nature  of 
the  mind,  and  learned  by  reading  and  practice 
some  of  the  means  by  which  that  nature  may  be 
influenced,  applies  the  resources  of  his  art  to  the 
child-nature  before  him.  Knowing  that  in  this 
nature  there  are  forces,  moral  and  intellectual,  on 
the  development  of  which  the  child's  well-being 
depends,  he  draws  them  forth  by  repeated  acts, 
exercises  them  in  order  to  strengthen  them,  trains 
them  into  faculty,  and  continually  aims  at  making 
all  that  he  does,  all  that  he  gets  his  pupil  to  do, 
minister  to  the  consciousness  of  growth  and  power 


176  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

in  the  child's  mind.  If  this  is  a  correct  description 
of  the  teacher's  function,  it  is  ohvious  that  it  ap- 
plies 1)0  every  department  of  the  teacher's  work  ; 
as  much  to  the  teaching  of  reading  and  arithmetic 
as  to  that  of  Greek  plays,  or  the  Differential  Cal- 
culus. The  function  does  not  change  with  the  sub- 
ject. But  I  go  further,  and  maintain  that  the 
beginning  of  the  process  of  education  is  even  more 
important  in  some  respects  than  the  later  stages. 
II  n'y  a  que  le  premier  pas  qui  coute.  The  teacher 
who  takes  in  hand  the  instruction  and  direction  of 
a  mind  which  has  never  been  taught  before,  com- 
mences a  series  of  processes,  which  by  our  theory 
should  have  a  definite  end  in  view — and  that  end 
is  to  induce  in  the  child's  mind  the  consciousness 
of  power.  Power  is,  of  course,  a  relative  term,  but 
it  is  not  inapplicable  to  the  case  before  us.  The 
teacher,  even  of  reading,  who  first  directs  the 
child's  own  observation  on  the  facts  in  view— the 
combinations  of  the  letters  in  separate  words  or 
syllables— gets  him  to  compare  these  combinations 
together,  and  notice  in  what  respect  they  differ  or 
agree,  to  state  liimself  the  difference  or  agreement 
—to  analyze  each  new  compound,  into  its  known 
and  unknown  elements,  applying  the  known,  as  far 
as  possible,  to  interpret  the  unknown — ^to  refer 
each  fresh  acquisition  to  that  first  made,  to  find 
out  for  himself  everything  which  can  be  found 
out  through  observation,  inference  and  reflection — 
to  look  for  no  help,  except  in  matters  (such  as  the 
sounds)  which  are  purely  conventional — to  teach 
himself  to  read,  in  short,  by  the  exercise  of  his  own 
mind— such  a  teacher,  it  is  contended,  while  get- 
ting the  child  to  le8.rn  how  to  read,  is,  in  fact,  doing 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  177 

much  more  than  this— he  is  teaching  the  child  how 
to  use  his  mind— how  to  observe,  investigate, 
think.  It  will  probably  be  granted  that  a  process 
of  this  kind — if  practicable — would  be  a  valuable 
initiation  for  the  child  in  the  art  of  learning  gener- 
ally, and  that  it  would  necessarily  be  attended 
by  what  I  have  described  as  a  consciousness  of 
power.  But,  moreover,— which  is  also  very  im- 
portant— it  would  be  attended  by  a  consciousness 
of  pleasure.  Even  the  youngest  child  is  sensible 
of  the  charm  of  doing  things  himself— of  finding 
out  thicgs  for  himself;  and  it  is  of  cardinal  import- 
ance in  elementary  instruction  to  lay  the  grounds 
for  the  association  of  pleasure  with  mental  activity. 
It  would  not  be  difficult,  but  it  is  unnecessary,  to 
contrast  such  a  method  as  this,  which  awakens  all 
the  powers  of  the  child's  mind,  keeps  them  in  vivid 
and  pleasurable  exercise,  and  forms  good  mental 
habits,  with  that  too  often  pursued,  which  deadens 
the  faculties,  induces  idle  habits,  distaste  for  learn 
ing,  and  incapacity  for  mental  exertion. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  **any  teacher"  cannot 
teach  even  reading,  so  as  to  make  it  a  mental  ex- 
ercise, and,  consequently,  a  part  of  real  education 
—in  other  words,  so  as  "to  make  all  that  he  does, 
and  all  he  gets  his  pupil  to  do,  minister  to  the  con- 
sciousness  of  growth  and  power  in  the  child's 
mind."  So  far  then  from  agreeing  with  the  pro- 
position in  question,  I  believe  that  the  early  devel- 
opment of  a  child's  mind  is  a  work  that  can  only 
effectually  be  performed  by  an  accomplished  teach- 
er ;  such  a  one  as  I  have  already  described.  In 
some  of  the  best  German  elementary  schools  men 
of  literary  distinction,  Doctors  in  Philosophy,  are 


178  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

employed  in  teaching  children  how  to  read,  and  in 
the  highly  organized  Jesuit  Schools,  it  was  a  regu- 
lation that  only  those  teachers  who  had  been 
specially  successful  in  the  higher  classes  should  be 
entrusted  with  the  care  of  the  lowest. 

There  is,  moreover,  another  consideration  which 
deserves  to  be  kept  in  view  in  discussing  the  com- 
petency of  '*  any  teacher  "  to  take  charge  of  a  child 
who  is  beginning  to  learn.  JMost  young  untrained 
teachers  fancy  when  they  give  their  first  lesson  to 
a  child  who  has  not  been  taught  before,  that  they 
^^  are  commencing  its  education.  A  moment's  reflec- 
tion will  show  that  this  is  not  the  case.  They  may 
indeed  be  commencing  its  formal  education,  but 
they  forget  that  it  has  been  long  a  pupil  of  that 
great  School,  of  which  Nature  is  the  mistress,  and 
that  their  proper  function  is  to  continue  the  educa- 
tion which  is  already  far  advanced.  In  that  School, 
observation  and  experiment,  acting  as  superintend- 
ents of  instruction,  through  the  agency  of  the 
child's  own  senses,  have  taught  it  all  it  knows  at 
the  time  when  natural  is  superseded,  or  rather 
suppHmented  by  formal  education.  Can  it  then  be 
a  matter  of  indifference  whether  or  not  the  teacher 
understands  the  processes,  and  enters  into  the 
spirit  of  the  teaching  carried  on  at  that  former 
School;  and  is  it  not  certain  that  his  want  of 
knowledge  on  these  points  will  prove  very  injurious 
to  the  yoimg  learner?  The  teacher  who  has  this 
knowledge  will  bring  it  into  active  exercise  in 
every  lesson  that  he  gives,  and,  as  I  have  shown 
in  the  case  of  teaching  to  read,  will  make  it  instru- 
mental in  the  development  of  all  the  intellectual 
faculties  of  the  child.    He  knows  that  his  method 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  179 

is  sound,  because  it  is  based  on  ISI  ature ;  and  he 
knows,  moreover,  that  it  is  better  than  Nature's, 
because  it  supersedes  desultory  and  fortuitous  ac- 
tion by  that  which  is  organized  with  a  view  to  a 
definite  end.  The  teacher  who  knows  nothing  of 
Nature's  method,  and  fails,  therefore,  to  appreciate 
its  spirit,  devises  at  haphazard  a  method  of  his 
own  which  too  generally  has  nothing  in  common 
with  it,  and  succeeds  in  effectually  quenching  the 
child's  own  active  energies ;  in  making  him  a  pas- 
sive recipient  of  knowledge,  which  he  has  had  no 
share  in  gaining ;  and  in  finally  converting  him 
into  a  mere  unintellectual  machine.  Untrained 
teachers,  especially  those  who,  as  the  phrase  is, 
**  commence  "  the  education  of  children,  are,  as  yet, 
little  aware  of  how  much  of  the  dullness,  stupidity, 
and  distaste  for  learning  which  they  complain  of 
in  their  pupils,  is  of  their  own  creation.  The  up- 
shot then  of  this  discussion  is,  not  that  **any 
teacher,"  but  only  those  tea3hers  who  are  trained 
in  the  art  of  teaching  can  be  safely  entrusted  with 
the  education  of  the  child's  earlist  efforts  in  the 
career  of  instruction,    j 

Another  fallacy,  which  it  is  important  to  expose, 
is  involved  in  the  assumption,  not  unfrequently 
met  with,  that  a  man's  *'  choosing  to  fancy  that  he 
has  the  ability  to  teach,  is  a  sufficient  warrant  for 
his  doing  so,"  leaving,  it  is  added,  ''  the  pubHc  to 
judge  whether  or  not  he  is  fit  for  his  profession." 
Ridiculous  as  this  proposition  may  appear,  I  have 
heard  it  gravely  argued  for  and  approved  in  a  con- 
ference of  teachers,  many  of  whom,  no  doubt  had 
good  grounds  of  their  own  for  their  adherence  to 
it.    Simply  stated,  it  is  the  theory  of  free  trade  in 


180  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

education.  Every  one  is  to  be  at  liberty  to  offer 
his  wares,  and  it  is  the  buyer's  business  to  take 
care  that  he  is  not  cheated  in  the  bargain.  It  is 
unnecessary  for  my  present  purpose  to  say  more 
on  the  general  proposition  than  this — that  the  state 
of  the  market  and  the  frequent  inferiority  of  the 
wares  invahdate  the  assumption  of  the  competency 
of  the  buyer  to  form  a  correct  estimate  of  the  ar- 
ticle he  buys,  and,  moreover,  that  an  immense 
quantity  of  mischief  may  be,  and  actually  is  done 
to  the  parties  most  concerned,  the  children  of  the 
buyers,  while  the  hazardous  experiment  is  going 
on.  As  to  the  minor  proposition,  that  a  man's 
''choosing  to  fancy  that  he  has  the  ability  "to 
teach  is  a  STifficient  warrant  for  his  doing  so,  it  is 
obviously  in  direct  opposition  to  the  argument  I 
am  maintaining.  It  cannot  for  a  moment  be  ad- 
mitted that  a  man's  ''choosing  to  f iancy  that  he 
has  the  ability  "  to  discharge  a  function  constitutes 
a  sufficient  warrant  for  the  indulgence  of  his  fancy, 
especially  in  a  field  of  action  where  the  dearest 
interests  of  society  are  at  stg^.  We  do  not  allow 
a  man  "who  chooses  to  fancy  that  he  has  the 
ability"  to  practice  surgery,  to  operate  on  our 
limbs  at  his  pleasure,  and  only  after  scores  of  dis- 
astrous experiments,  decide  whether  he  is  "fit  to 
follow  the  profession "  of  a  surgeon.  Nor  do  we 
allow  a  man  who  may  "choose  to  fancy  that  he 
has  the  ability  "  to  take  the  command  of  a  man-of- 
war,  to  imdertake  such  a  charge  on  the  mere  as- 
surance that  we  may  safely  trust  to  his  "  inward 
impulse."  And  if  we  require  the  strictest  guaran- 
tees of  competency,  where  our  lives  and  property 
are  risked,  shall  we  be  less  anxious  to  secure  them 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDtJCATION.  181 

when  the  mental  and  moral  lives  of  our  children — 
the  children  of  our  commonwealth — are  endanger- 
ed ?  I  repudiate  then  entirely  this  doctrine  of  an 
*'  inward  impulse,"  which  is  to  supersede  the  order- 
ly training  of  the  teacher  in  the  art  of  teaching. 
It  has  been  tried  long  enough,  and  has  been  found 
utterly  wanting.  Fallacies,  however,  are  often 
singularly  tenacious  of  life,  and  we  are  not  there- 
fore surprised  at  Mr.  Meiklejohn's  assertion,  that 
in  more  than  50  per  cent,  of  the  letters  which  he 
examined,  the  special  qualification  put  forward  by 
the  candidates  was  their  '*  feeling  "  that  they  could 
perform  the  duties  of  the  office  in  question  to  their 
own  satisfaction,  (!)  This  is  obviously  only  anoth- 
er specimen,  though  certainly  a  remarkable  one,  of 
the  *' inward  impulse"  theory. 

The  third  fallacy  I  propose  to  deal  with  is  couch- 
ed in  the  common  assumption  that  "any  one  who 
knows  a  subject  can  teach  it."  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  the  teacher  should  have  an  accurate 
knowledge  of  the  subject  he  professes  to  teach,  and 
especially  for  this,  if  for  no  other  reason — that  as 
his  proper  function  is  to  guide  the  process  by 
which  his  pupil  is  to  learn,  it  will  be  of  the  greatest 
advantage  to  him  as  a  guide  to  have  gone  himself 
through  the  process  of  learning.  But,  then,  it  is 
very  possible  that  although  his  experience  has  been 
real  and  personal,  it  may  not  have  been  conscious 
— that  is,  that  he  may  have  been  too  much  absorb- 
ed in  the  process  itself  to  take  account  of  the 
natural  laws  of  its  operation.  This  conscious 
knowledge  of  the  method  by  which  the  mmd  gains 
ideas  is,  in  fact,  a  branch  of  Psychology,  and  he 
may  not  have  studied  that  science.    Nor  was  it 


182  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

necessary  for  his  purpose,  as  a  learner,  that  he 
should  study  it.  J  But  the  conditions  are  quite 
altered  when  he  becomes  a  teacher.  He  now 
assumes  the  direction  of  a  process  which  is  essen- 
tially not  his  but  the  learner's ;  for  it  is  obvious 
that  he  can  no  more  think  for  the  pupil  than  he 
can  eat  or  sleep  for  him.  His  efficient  direction, 
then,  will  mainly  depend  on  his  thoughtful,  con- 
scious knowledge  of  all  the  conditions  of  the  pro- 
blem which  he  has  to  solve.  That  problem  consists 
in  getting  his  pupil  to  learn,  and  it  is  evident 
that  he  may  know  his  subject,  without  knowing 
the  best  means  of  making  his  pupil  know  it  too, 
which  is  the  assumed  end  of  all  his  teaching;  in 
other  words,  he  may  be  an  adept  in  his  subject, 
but  an  novice  in  the  art  of  teaching  it. 
Natural  tact  and  insight  may,  in  many  cases, 
rapidly  suggest  the  faculty  that  is  needed ;  but  the 
position  still  remains  unaffected  that  knowing  a 
subject  is  a  very  different  thing  from  knowing 
how  to  teach  it.  This  conclusion  is  indeed  involv- 
ed in  the  very  conception  of  the  art  of  teaching, 
an  art  which  has  principles,  laws,  and  processes 
peculiar  to  itself. 

But,  again,  a  man  profoundly  acquainted  with  a 
subject  may  be  unapt  to  teach  it  by  reason  of  the 
very  height  and  extent  of  his  knowledge.  His 
mind  habitually  dwells  among  the  mountains,  and 
he  has  therefore  small  sympathy  with  the  toilsome 
plodders  on  the  plains  below.  It  is  so  long  since 
he  was  a  learner  himself  that  he  forgets  the  diffi- 
culties and  perplexities  which  once  obstructed  his 
path,  and  which  are  so  painfully  felt  by  those  who 
are  still  in  the  condition  in  which  he  once  was 


THE  SCIENCE  ANB  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  183 

himself.  It  is  a  hard  task,  therefore,  for  him  to 
condescend  to  their  condition,  to  place  himself 
alongside  of  them,  and  to  force  a  sympathy  which 
he  cannot  naturally  feel  with  their  trials  and  ex- 
perience. The  teacher,  in  this  case,  even  less  than 
in  the  other,  is  not  likely  to  conceive  justly  of  all 
that  is  involved  in  [the  art  of  teaching,  or  to  give 
himseK  the  trouble  of  acquiring  it.  Be  this,  how- 
ever, as  it  may,  both  illustrations  of  the  case  show 
that  it  is  a  fallacy  to  assert  that  there  is  any 
necessary  connection  between  knowing  a  subject, 
and  knowing  how  to  teach  it. 
f  Having  now  shown  that  the  present  state  of 
L,  public  opinion  in  England,  which  permits  any  one 
I  who  pleases  to  **  set  up  "  as  a  teacher  without  re- 
gard to  qualifications  is  inconsistent  with  the  no- 
tion that  teaching  is  an  art  for  the  exercise  of 
which  preliminary  training  is  necessary,  and  dis- 
posed of  those  prevalent  fallacies  which  are,  to  a 
great  extent,  constituents  of  that  public  opinion,  I 
proceed  to  give  some  illustrations  of  teacliing  as  it 
is  in  contrast  with  teaching  as  it  should  be.  The 
fundamental  proposition,  to  which  all  that  I  have 
to  say  on  the  point  in  question  must  be  referred,  is 
this-\that  teaching,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the 
term,  is  a  branch  of  education,  and  that  educa- 
tion is  the  development  and  training  of  the  facul- 
ties with  a  view  to  create  in  the  pupil's  mind  a 
consciousness  of  power.  \Every  process  employed 
in  what  is  called  teaching  that  will  not  bear  this 
test  is,  more  or  less,  of  the  essence  of  cramming, 
and  cramming  is  a  direct  interference  with,  and 
antagonistic  to,  the  true  end  of  Education.  Cram- 
ming may  be  defined  for  our  present  purpose  as 


184  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

the  didactic  imposition  on  the  child's  mind  of 
ready-made  results,  of  results  gained  by  the 
thought  of  other  people;  through  processes  in 
which  his  mind  has  not  been  called  upon  to  take  a 
part.  During  this  performance  the  mind  of  the 
pupil  is  for  the  most  part  a  passive  recipient  of  the 
matter  forced  into  it,  and  the  only  faculty  actively 
employed  is  memory.  The  result  is  that  memory 
instead  of  being  occupied  in  its  proper  func- 
tion of  retaining  the  impression  left  on  the 
mind  by  its  own  active  operations,  and  being 
therefore  subordinate  and  subsequent  to  those 
operations,  is  forced  into  a  position  to  which 
it  has  no  natural  right,  and  made  to  precede, 
instead  of  waiting  on,  the  mind's  action.  Thus  the 
true  sequence  of  causes  and  consequences  is  dis- 
turbed, and  memory  becomes  a  principal  agent  in 
instruction.  If  we  further  reflect  that  ideas  gained 
by  the  direct  action  of  the  mind  naturally  find  their 
proper  place  among  [the  other  ideas  already  exist- 
ing there  by  the  law  of  association,  while  those 
arbitrarily  forced  into  it  do  so  only  by  accident — 
for  the  mind  receives  only  that  which  it  is  already 
prepared  to  receive— we  see  that  cramming,  which 
takes  no  account  of  preparedness,  is  absolutely  op- 
posed to  development,  that  is  to  education  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  term.  Cramming,  therefore,  has 
nothing  in  common  with  the  art  of  teaching,  and 
the  great  didactic  truth  is  established  that  it  is  the 
manner  or  method,  rather  than  the  thing  taught, 
that  constitutes  the  real  value  of  the  teaching. 

Mr.  D'Arcy  Thompson,  in  his  interesting  book 
entitled  '  'Wayside  Thoughts, "  referring  to  the  usual 
process  of  cramming  in  education,  compares  it  to 


THE  SCIIEKCE  AND  ART  OF  EBTTCATION.  185 

the  deglutition  of  the  boa  constrictor  of  a  whole 
goat  at  a  meal,  but  he  remarks  that  while  the  boa 
by  degrees  absorbs  the  animal  into  his  system,  the 
human  boa  often  goes  about  all  his  life  with  the  un- 
digested goat  in  his  stomach  !  There  may  be  some 
extravagance  in  this  whimsical  illustration,  but  it 
involves,  after  all,  a  very  serious  truth.  How 
many  men  and  women  are  there  who,  if  they  do 
not  carry  the  entire  goat  with  them  ihroughout 
life,  retain  in  an  undigested  condition  huge  frag- 
ments of  it,  which  press  as  a  dead  weight  on  the 
system — a  source  of  torpidity  and  uneasiness,  in- 
stead of  becoming  through  proper  assimilation  a 
means  of  energy  and  power.  /  The  true  educator, 
who  is  at  the  same  time  a  genuine  artist,  proceeds 
to  his  work  on  principles  diametrically  opposed  to 
those  involved  in  cramming.  /  In  the  first  place  he 
endeavors  to  form  a  just  conception  of  the  nature, 
aims,  and  ends  of  education,  as  of  a  theory  which 
is  to  govern  his  professional  action.  According  to 
this  conception  *' education  is  the  training  carried 
on  consciously  and  continuously  by  the  educator 
with  the  view  of  converting  desultory  and  acciden- 
tal force  into  organized  action,  and  of  ultimately 
making  the  child  operated  on  by  it  a  healthy,  in- 
telligent, moral,  and  rehgious  man."  Confining 
himself  to  intellectual  training,  he  sees  that  this 
must  be  accomplished  through  instruction,  which 
is  ''  the  orderly  placing  of  knowledge  in  the  mind 
with  a  definite  object ;  the  mere  aggregation  of  in- 
coherent ideas,  gained  by  desultory  and  uncon- 
nected mental  acts  being  no  more  instruction  than 
heaping  bricks  and  stone  together  is  building  a 


186  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

house."*  These  conceptions  of  the  nature  and  aim 
of  education,  and  of  its  proper  relation  to  instruc- 
tion, suggest  to  him  the  consideration  of  the  means 
to  be  employed.  These  means  to  be  effectual  must 
have  an  exact  scientific  relation  to  the  nature  of 
the  machinery  that  is  to  be  set  in  motion ;  a  rela- 
tion which  can  only  be  understood  by  a  careful 
study  of  the  machinery  itself.  If  it  is  a  sort  of 
machinery  which  manifests  its  energies  in  acts  of 
observation,  perception,  reflection,  and  remember- 
ing, and  depends  for  its  efficacy  upon  attention, 
he  must  study  these  phenomena  subjectively  in  re- 
lation to  his  own  conscious  experience,  and  objec- 
tively as  exhibited  in  the  experience  of  others. 
Regarding,  further,  this  plexus  of  energies  as  con- 
nected with  a  base  to  which  we  give  the  name  of 
mind,  he  must  proceed  to  study  the  nature  of  the 
mind  in  general,  and  especially  note  the  manner  in 
which  it  acts  in  the  acquisition  of  ideas.  This 
study  will  bring  him  into  acquaintance  with  cer- 
tain principles  or  laws  which  are  to  guide  and 
control  his  future  action.  The  knowledge  thus 
gained  will  constitute  his  initiation  into  the 
Science  and  Art  of  Education. 

The  Science  or  Theory  of  Education  then  is  seen 
to  consist  in  a  knowledge  of  those  principles  of 
Psychology,  which  account  for  the  processes  by 
which  the  mind  gains  knowledge.  It  therefore 
serves  as  a  test,  by  which  the  Art  or  Practice  of 
Education  may  be  tried.  All  practices  which  are 
not  in  accordance  with  the  natural  action  of  the 
mind  in  acquiring  knowledge  for  itself  are  con- 
demned by  the  theory  of  Education,  and  in  this 

*  Lectures  on  the  Science  and  Art  of  Education. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  187 

predicament  is  cramming,  which  consists  in  forcing 
into  the  mind  of  the  learner  the  products  of  othe^ 
people's  thought.  Such  products  are  formulae, 
rules,  abstract  general  propositions,  definitions, 
classifications,  technical  terms,  common  words 
even,  when  they  are  not  the  signs  of  ideas  gained 
at  first-hand  by  his  own  observation  and  percep- 
tion. The  Science  of  Education  recognizes  all  these 
kinds  of  knowledge  as  necessary  to  the  formation 
of  the  mind;  but  relegates  them  to  their  proper 
place  in  the  course  of  instruction,  and  determines 
that  that  place  is  subsequent  not  antecedent  to  the 
action  of  the  learner's  mind  on  the  facts  which 
serve  as  their  groundwork.  Facts,  then,  things, 
material  objects,  natural  phenomena,  physical 
facts,  facts  of  language,  facts  of  nature,  are  the 
true,  the  all-suflScient  pabulum  for  the  youthful 
mind,  and  the  careful  study  and  investigation  of 
them  at  first-hand,  through  his  own  observation 
and  experiment  are  to  constitute  his  earliest  initia- 
tion in  the  art  of  learning.  After  this  initiatory 
practice,  which  involves  analysis  and  disintegra- 
tion, come,  as  the  natural  sequence,  the  processes 
of  reconstruction  and  classification  of  the  elements 
obtained,  induction,  framing  of  definitions,  build- 
ing up  of  rules,  generalization  of  particulars,  con- 
struction of  formulae,  appHcation  of  technical 
terms,  in  all  which  processes  the  art  of  the  teacher 
as  a  director  of  the  learner's  intellectual  efforts  is 
manifestly  called  into  exercise ;  and  the  need  of  his 
own  experimental  knowledge  of  the  processes  he  has 
to  direct  is  too  obvious  to  require  to  be  insisted  on. 
The  comprehensive  principle  here  enunciated, 
which  regards  even  the  learning  by  rote  of  the 


188  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

multiplication  table  and  Latin  declensions,  antece- 
(Jently  to  some  preliminary  dealing  with  the  facts 
of  Latin  and  the  facts  of  number,  as  of  the  essence 
of  cramming,  will  be  theoretically  received  or  re- 
jected by  teachers  just  in  proportion  as  they  receive 
or  reject  the  conception  of  an  art  of  teaching 
founded  on  intellectual  principles.  It  is  obvious 
enough  that  cramming  knowledge  into  the  memory, 
without  regard  to  its  fitness  for  mental  digestion, 
if  an  art  at  all,  is  an  art  of  very  low  order,  and  has 
little  in  common  with  that  which  consists  in  a 
conscious  appreciation  of  the  means  whereby  the 
mind  is  awakened  to  activity,  and  its  energies 
trained  to  independent  power.  J  The  teacher,  in 
fact,  in  the  one  case  is  an  artist,  soientifically 
working  out  his  design  in  accordance  with  the 
principles  of  his  art,  and  ready  to  apply  all  its 
resources  to  the  emergencies  of  practice;  in  the 
other  case,  he  is  an  artisan  empirically  working 
by  the  rule-of -thumb,  unfurnished  with  principles 
of  action,  and  succeeding,  when  he  succeeds  at  all, 
through  the  happy  accident  that  the  pupil's  own 
intellectual  activity  practically  defeats  the  natural 
tendency  of  the  teacher's  mechanical  drill. 

I  do  not,  however,  by  any  means  pretend  to  assert 
that  every  teacher  who  declines  to  accept  this  no- 
tion of  teaching  as  an  art,  is  an  artisan.  It  often 
happens  that  a  man  works  on  a  theory  which  he 
does  not  consciously  appreciate,  and  in  his  actual 
practice  obviates  the  objection  which  might  be 
taken  against  some  of  his  processes.  Hence  we 
find  teachers,  while  denouncing  such  expressions 
as  '^  development  and  cultivation  of  the  intelli- 
gence "  as  "frothy,"  doing  practically  all  they  can 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  189 

to  develop  and  cultivate  the  intelligence  of  their 
pupils.  Such  teachers  do  indeed  violently  drive 
''the  goat"  into  the  stomach  of  their  pupils,  but 
when  they  have  got  it  there  take  great  pains  to 
have  it  digested  in  some  fashion  or  other,  I  be- 
lieve that  the  process  would  be  much  facilitated  by 
their  knowing  something  of  the  physiology  of  di- 
gestion, but  I  do  not  therefore  designate  such 
practitioners  as  artisans.  At  the  same  time  I  do 
not  call  them  artists,  for  their  procedure  violates 
nature,  and  true  art  never  does  that.  The  epithet 
artisan  may  however  be  restricted  to  those — and 
their  number  is  legion— whose  practice  consists  of 
cramming  pur  et  simple. 

On  the  whole,  then,  I  contend  that  if  we  could 
examine  the  entire  practice  of  those  teachers  who 
actually  succeed  in  endowing  the  large  majority — 
not  a  select  few—of  their  pupils  with  sound  and 
systematic  knowledge,  and  with  well-formed  minds, 
we  should  find  that,  whatever  be  their  theoretic 
notions,  they  have  worked  on  the  principles  on 
which  I  have  been  all  along  insisting.  They  have 
succeeded  by  the  development  and  cultivation  of 
their  pupils,  and  by  nothing  else,  and  they  have 
succeeded  just  in  proportion  as  they  have  con- 
sciously kept  this  object  in  view.  Let  us  hear 
what  Dean  Stanley  tells  us  of  Arnold's  teaching. 
"Arnold's  whole  method  was  founded  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  awakening  the  intelligence  of  every  indivi- 
dual boy.  Hence  it  was  his  practice  to  teach,  not, 
as  you  perceive,  by  downpouring,  but  by  question- 
ing. As  a  general  rule  he  never  gave  information 
except  as  a  reward  for  an  answer,  and  often  with- 
held it  altogether,  or  checked  himself  in  the  very 


190  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

act  of  uttering  it,  from  a  sense  that  those  whom 
he  was  addressing  had  not  sufficient  interest  or 
sympathy  to  entitle  them  to  receive  it.  His  ex- 
planations were  as  short  as  possible,  enough  to  dis- 
pose of  the  difficulty  and  no  more,  and  his  ques- 
tions were  of  a  kind  to  call  the  attention  of  the 
boys  to  the  real  point  of  every  subject,  to  disclose 
to  them  the  exact  boundaries  of  what  they  know 
and  did  not  know,  and  to  cultivate  a  habit  not  only 
of  collecting  facts,  but  of  expressing  themselves 
with  facility,  and  of  understanding  the  principles 
on  which  these  facts  rested."  Such  was  Arnold's 
method  of  teaching ;  and  it  is  obvious  that,  mutatis 
mutandis,  modified  somewhat  so  as  to  apply  to  the 
earliest  elementary  instruction,  it  involves  all  the 
principles  which  I  have  contended  for,  as  consti- 
tuting the  true  art  of  teaching.  The  boys  were,  in 
fact,  teaching  themselves  under  the  direction  of 
the  teacher  without,  or  with  the  slightest,  explana- 
tion on  his  part.  They  were  using  all  their  minds 
on  the  subject,  and  gaining  independent  power. 
Arnold,  to  use  a  famous  French  teacher's  expres- 
sion, was  *'  laboring  to  render  himself  useless." 

But  T  must  draw  these  remarks  to  a  conclusion. 
It  is  hardly  necessary  for  me  to  state  formally  the 
principles  for  which  I  have  been  all  along  arguing. 

The  upshot  is  this —Teaching  is  not  a  bhnd  rou- 
tine but  an  art,  which  has  a  definite  end  in  view. 
An  art  implies  an  artist  who  works  by  systematic 
rules.  The  processes  and  rules  of  art  explicitly  or 
implicitly  evolve  the  principles  involved  in  science. 
The  art  or  practice  of  education,  therefore,  is 
founded  on  the  science  or  theory  of  education, 
while  the  science  of  education  is  itself  f  oimded  on 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  191 

the  science  of  mind  or  psychology.  The  complete 
equipment  and  training  of  the  teacher  for  his  pro- 
fession comprehends  therefore ; 

(a.)  A  knowledge  of  the  subject  of  instruction. 

(6.)  A  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  the  being  to 
be  instructed. 

(c.)  A  knowledge  of  the  best  methods  of  instruc- 
tion. 

This  knowledge,  gained  by  careful  study  and 
conjoined  with  practice,  constitutes  the  training 
of  the  teacher. 


TJSE    TRUE   FOUNDATION  OF   SCIENCE- 
TEACHING. 

It  is  almost  a  truism  to  say,  that  the  foundation 
of  a  building  is  its  most  important  feature.  If  the 
foundation  be  either  insecure  in  itself,  or  laid  with- 
out regard  to  the  plan  of  the  superstructure,  the 
building,  as  a  whole,  will  be  found  wanting  both  in 
unity  and  strength.  A  building  is  in  fact  the  em- 
bodiment and  realization  of  an  idea  conceived  in 
the  mind  of  the  architect,  and  if  he  is  competent 
for  his  post,  and  can  secure  the  needful  co-opera- 
tion, the  practical  expression  will  synunetrically 
correspond  to  the  conception.  But  unless  the  foun- 
dation is  solidly  laid,  and  all  the  parts  of  the  build- 
ing are  constructed  with  relation  to  it,  his  aesthetic 
and  theoretic  skill  will  go  for  little  or  nothing. 
His  work  is  doomed  to  failure  from  the  beginning, 
and  the  extent  of  the  failure  will  be  proportionate 
to  the  ambition  of  the  design.  These  remarks  are 
applicable  to  the  art  of  building  generally,  whether 
shown  in  large  and  imposing  structures,  or  in  the 
meanest  cottages.  In  no  case  can  the  essential  ele- 
ments of  unity  and  strength  be  dispensed  with. 

Whatever  might  have  been  said  of  the  neglect  of 
what  is  called  *'  science  "  in  former  times,  we  can- 
not make  the  same  complaint  now.  A  ringing  cho- 
rus of  voices  may  be  heard  vociferously  demanding 
science  for  the  children  of  primary,  secondary,  and 
192 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  193 

public  schools;  for  the  Universities;  in  short,  for 
all  classes  of  society.  ' '  Science, "  it  is  said,  * '  is  the 
grand  desideratum  of  our  age,  the  true  mark  of 
our  civilization.  We  want  science  to  supply  a 
mental  discipline  unfurnished  by  the  old-estab- 
lished curriculum ;  we  want  it  as  the  basis  of  the 
technical  instruction  of  our  workmen." 

But  amidst  all  the  clamor  of  voices  demanding 
instruction  in  Science,  we  listen  in  vain  for  the  au- 
thoritative voice — the  voice  of  the  master  artist — 
which  shall  define  for  us  the  aims  and  ends  of 
Science,  and  lay  down  the  laws  of  that  teaching 
by  which  they  are  to  be  effectively  secured.  As 
things  go,  every  teacher  is  left  to  frame  his  own 
theory  of  Science-teaching,  and  his  own  empirical 
method  of  carrying  it  out ;  and  the  result  is,  to  ap- 
ply our  illustration,  that  the  fabric  of  Science- 
teaching  now  rising  before  us  rests  upon  no  recog- 
nized and  estabhshed  foundation,  exhibits  no  prin- 
ciple of  harmonious  design,  and  that  [its  various 
stages  have  scarcely  any  relation  to  each  other, 
and  least  of  all  to  any  solidly  compacted  ground- 
plan. 

The  first  question  for  consideration  is,  **  What  is 
meant  by  Science  ?"  The  shortest  answer  that  can 
be  given  is,  that  **  Science  is  organized  knowledge." 
This  is,  however,  too  general  for  our  present  pur- 
pose, which  is,  to  deal  with  Physical  Science.  In 
a  somewhat  developed  form,  then,  physical  science 
is  an  organized  knowledge  of  material,  concrete, 
objective  facts  or  phenomena.  The  term  ^'organ- 
ized," it  will  be  seen,  is  the  essence  of  the  defini- 
tion, inasmuch  as  it  connotes  or  implies  that  cer- 
tain objective  relations  subsisting  in  the  nature  of 


194  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

things,  between  facts  or  phenomena,  are  subjec- 
tively appreciated  by  the  mind— that  is,  that 
Science  differs  from  mere  knowledge  by  being  a 
knowledge  both  of  facts  and  of  their  relations  to 
each  other.  The  mere  random,  haphazard  accu- 
mulation of  facts,  then,  is  not  Science;  but  the 
perception  and  conception  of  their  natural  rela- 
tions to  each  other,  the  comprehension  of  these  re- 
lations under  general  laws,  and  the  organization 
of  facts  and  laws  into  one  body,  the  parts  of  which 
are  seen  to  be  subservient  to  each  other,  is  Science. 

Ketuming  to  the  other  factor  of  the  definition, 
"  Knowledge,"  we  observe  that  there  are  two  kinds 
of  knowledge— what  we  know  through  our  own 
experience,  and  what  we  know  through  the  expe- 
rience of  others.  Thus,  I  know  by  my  own  knowl- 
edge that  I  have  an  audience  before  me,  and  I  know 
through  the  knowledge  of  others  that  the  earth  is 
25,000  miles  in  circumference.  This  latter  fact, 
however,  I  know  in  a  sense  different  from  that  in 
which  I  know  the  former.  The  one  is  a  part  of  my 
experience,  of  my  very  being.  The  other  I  can 
only  be  strictly  said  to  know  when  I  have,  by  an 
effort  of  the  mind,  passed  through  the  connected 
chain  of  facts  and  reasonings  on  which  the  demon- 
stration is  founded.  Thus  only  can  it  beome  my 
knowledge  in  the  true  sense  of  the  term. 

Strictly  speaking,  then,  organized  knowledge,  or 
Science,  is  originally  based  on  unorganized  knowl- 
edge, and  is  the  outcome  of  the  learner's  own  ob- 
servation of  facts  through  the  exercise  of  his  own 
senses,  and  his  own  reflection  upon  what  he  has 
observed.  This  knowledge,  ultimately  organized 
into  Science  through  the  operation  of  his  mind,  he 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  195 

may  with  just  right  call  his  own ;  and,  as  a  learner, 
he  can  properly  call  no  other  knowledge  his  own. 
What  is  reported  to  us  by  another  is  that  other's, 
if  gained  at  first-hand  by  experience ;  but  it  stands 
on  a  different  footing  from  that  which  we  have 
gained  by  our  own  experience.  He  merely  hands 
it  over  to  us ;  but  when  we  receive  it,  its  condition 
is  already  changed.  It  wants  the  brightness,  defin- 
iteness,  and  certainty  in  our  eyes,  which  it  had  in 
his;  and,  moreover,  it  is  merely  a  loan,  and  not 
our  property.  The  fact,  for  instance,  about  the 
earth's  circumference  was  to  him  a  living  fact ;  it 
sprang  into  being  as  the  outcome  of  experiments 
and  reasonings,  with  the  entire  chain  of  which  it 
was  seen  by  him  to  be  intimately — indeed  indis- 
solubly  and  organically  connected.  To  us  it  is  a 
dead  fact,  severed  from  its  connection  with  the 
body  of  truth,  and,  by  our  hypothesis,  having  no 
organic  relation  to  the  living  truths  we  have  gained 
by  our  own  minds.  These  are  convertible  into  our 
Science ;  that  is  not.  What  I  insist  on  then  is,  that 
the  knowledge  from  experience— that  which  is 
gained  by  bringing  our  own  minds  into  direct  con- 
tact with  matter— is  the  only  knowledge  that  as 
novices  in  science  we  have  to  do  with.  The  dog- 
matic knowledge  imposed  on  us  by  authority, 
though  originally  gained  by  the  same  means,  is, 
really,  not  ours,  but  another's — is,  as  far  as  we  are 
concerned,  unorganizable  ;  and  therefore,  though 
Science  to  its  proprietor,  is  not  Science  to  us.  To 
us  it  is  merely  information,  or  haphazard  knowl- 
edge. 

The  conclusions,  then,  at  which  we  arrive,  are — 
(1)  That  the  true  foundation  of  physical  Science 


196  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

lies  in  the  knowledge  of  physical  facts  gained  at 
first-hand  by  observation  and  experiment,  to  be 
made  by  the  learner  himself;  (2)  that  all  knowl- 
edge not  thus  gained  is,  pro  tantOy  unorganizable, 
and  not  suited  to  his  actual  condition ;  and  (3)  that 
his  facts  become  organized  into  Science  by  the 
operation  of  his  own  mind  upon  them. 

Having  given  some  idea  of  what  is  meant  by 
Science,  and  how  it  grows  up  in  the  mind  of  the 
learner,  I  turn  now  to  the  teacher,  and  briefly  in- 
quire what  is  his  function  in  the  process  of  Science- 
teaching  ? 

I  have  elsewhere*  endeavored  to  expound  the 
correlation  of  learning  and  teaching,  and  to  show 
that  the  natural  process  of  investigation  by  which 
the  unassisted  student— unassisted,  that  is,  by  book 
or  teacher — would  seek,  as  a  first  discoverer,  to 
gain  an  accurate  knowledge  of  facts  and  their  in- 
terpretation, suggests  to  us  both  the  nature  and 
scope  of  the  teacher's,  and  especially  the  Science- 
teacher's,  functions.  According  to  this  view  of 
the  subject,  the  learner's  method  and  the  teacher's 
serve  as  a  mutual  limit  to  each  other.  The  learner 
is  a  discoverer  or  investigator  engaged  in  interro- 
gating the  concrete  matter  before  him,  with  a  view 
to  ascertain  its  nature  and  properties;  and  the 
teacher  is  a  superintendent  or  director  of  the  learn- 
er's process,  pointing  out  the  problem  to  be  solved, 
concentrating  the  learner's  attention  upon  it,  vary- 
ing the  points  of  view,  suggesting  experiments,  in- 
quiring what  they  result  in ;  converting  even  errors 

*  See  a  Lecture  entitled  "  Theories  of  Teaching  with  the  Corre- 
sponding Practice,"  delivered  AprU  26, 1869,  at  the  Rooms  of  the 
Association  for  the  Promotion  of  Social  Science. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  197 

and  mistakes  into  increased  means  of  power,  bring- 
ing back  the  old  to  interpret  the  new,  the  known  to 
interpret  the  unknown,  requiring  an  exact  record 
of  results  arrived  at—in  short,  exercising  all  the 
powers  of  the  learner's  mind  upon  the  matter  in 
hand,  in  order  to  make  him  an  accurate  observer 
and  experimenter,  and  to  train  him  in  the  method 
of  investigation. 

The  teacher,  then,  is  to  be  governed  in  his  teach- 
ing, not  by  independent  notions  of  his  own,  but  by 
considerations  inherent  in  the  natural  process  by 
which  the  pupil  learns.  He  is  not,  therefore,  at 
liberty  to  ignore  this  natural  process,  which  essen- 
tially involves  the  observation,  experiment  and  re- 
flection of  the  pupil;  nor  to  supersede  it  by  intrud- 
ing the  results  of  the  observation,  experiment  and 
reflection  of  others.  He  is,  on  the  contrary,  boimd 
to  recognize  these  operations  of  his  pupil's  mind  as 
the  true  foundation  of  the  Science-teaching  which 
he  professes  to  carry  out.  In  other  words,  the  pro- 
cess of  the  learner  is  the  true  f  oxmdation  of  that  of 
the  teacher. 

It  will  have  been  observed,  that  I  lay  great  stress 
on  teaching  Science  in  such  a  way  that  it  shall  be- 
come a  real  training  of  the  student  in  the  method 
of  Science,  with  a  view  to  the  forming  of  the  scien- 
tific mind.  According  to  the  usual  methods  of 
Science-teaching,  it  is  quite  possible  for  a  student 
to  *'get  up,"  by  cramming,  a  number  of  books  on 
scientific  subjects,  to  attend  lecture  after  lecture 
on  the  same  subjects,  to  be  drenched  with  endless 
explanations  and  comments  on  descriptions  of  ex- 
periments performed  by  others,  to  lodge  in  his 
memory  the  technical  results  of  investigations  in 


198  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

which  he  has  taken  no  part  himself,  together  with 
formulae,  rules,  and  definitions  ad  infinitum;  and 
yet,  after  all,  never  to  have  even  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  idea  involved  in  investigation,  or  to  have 
been  for  a  moment  animated  by  the  spirit  of  the 
scientific  explorer.  That  spirit  is  a  spirit  of  power, 
which,  not  content  with  the  achievements  gained 
by  others,  seeks  to  make  conquests  of  its  own,  and 
therefore  examines,  explores,  dicovers  and  invents 
for  itself.  These  are  the  manifestations  of  the 
spirit  of  investigation,  and  that  spirit  may  be  ex- 
cited by  the  true  Science-teacher  in  the  heart  of  a 
little  child.  I  may  refer,  for  proof  of  this  asser- 
tion, to  the  teaching  of  botany  to  poor  village  chil- 
dren by  the  late  Professor  Henslow ;  to  the  teach 
ing  of  general  Science  by  the  late  Dean  Dawes  to  a 
similar  class  of  children ;  to  that  pursued  at  the 
present  time  at  the  Bristol  Trade  School ;  and  to 
the  invaluable  lessons  given  to  the  imaginary 
Harry  and  Lucy  by  Miss  Edgeworth,  Without 
warranting  every  process  adopted  by  these  emi- 
nently successful  teachers,  some  of  whom  were 
perhaps  a  little  too  much  addicted  to  explaining,  I 
have  no  hesitation  in  declaring  that  they  one  and 
all  acted  mainly  on  the  principle  that  true  Science- 
teaching  consists  in  bringing  the  pupil's  mind  into 
direct  contact  with  facts — ^in  getting  him  to  inves- 
tigate, discover,  and  invent  for  himself.  The  same 
method  is  recommended  in  Miss  Youmans's  philo- 
sophical Essay  **0n  the  Culture  of  the  Observing 
Powers  of  Children,"  and  rigorously  applied  in  her 
*'  First  Lessons  on  Botany;"  and  in  the  Supplement 
to  that  little  volume  I  have  given,  as  its  editor,  a 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  199 

typical  lesson  on  the  pile-driving  engine,  which 
Qlustrates  the  following  principles : 

1.  That  the  pupils,  throughout  the  lesson,  are 
learning— ^.  6.,  teaching  themselves,  by  the  exer- 
cise of  their  own  minds,  without,  and  not  by,  the 
explanations  of  the  teacher, 

2.  That  the  pupils  gain  their  knowledge  from  the 
object  itself,  not  from  a  description  of  the  object 
furnished  by  another. 

3.  That  the  observations  and  experiments  are 
their  own  observations  and  experiments,  made  by 
their  own  senses  and  by  their  own  hands,  as  inves- 
tigators seeking  to  ascertain  for  themselves  what 
the  object  before  them  is,  and  what  it  is  capable  of 
doing. 

4.  That  the  teacher  recognizes  his  proper  func- 
tion as  that  of  a  guide  or  director  of  the  pupil's 
process  of  self -teaching,  which  he  aids  by  moral 
means,  but  does  not  supersede  by  the  intervention 
of  his  own  knowledge. 

These  hints  all  tend  to  show  what  is  really  meant 
by  Science-teaching,  as  generally  distinguished 
from  other  teaching. 

In  case,  however,  my  competency  to  give  an 
opinion  on  Science-teaching  should  be  questioned, 
I  beg  to  enforce  my  views  by  the  authority  of  Pro- 
fessor Huxley,  who,  in  a  lecture  on  "Scientific 
Education,"  thus  expresses  himself:  "If  scientific 
training  is  to  yield  its  most  eminent  results,  it 
must  be  made  practical — that  is  to  say,  in  explain- 
ing to  a  child  the  general  phenomena  of  nature, 
you  must,  as  far  as  possible,  give  reality  to  your 
teaching  by  object-lessons.  In  teaching  him  bota- 
ny, he  must  handle  the  plants  and  dissect  the  flow- 


200  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

ers  for  himself;  in  teaching  him  physics  and  chem 
istry,  you  must  not  be  solicitous  to  fill  him  with 
mformaition,  but  you  must  be  careful  that  what  he 
learns  he  knows  of  his  own  knowledge.  Do  not 
be  satisfied  with  telling  him  that  a  magnet  attracts 
iron.  Let  him  see  that  it  does;  let  him  feel  the 
pull  of  the  one  upon  the  other  for  himself.  ... 
Pursue  this  discipline  carefully  and  conscientiously, 
and  you  may  make  sure  that,  however  scanty  may 
be  the  measure  of  information  which  you  have 
poured  into  the  boy's  mind,  you  have  created  an 
intellectual  habit  of  priceless  value  in  practical 
Hfo." 

Again,  in  the  same  lecture,  the  professor  says: 
**  If  the  great  benefits  of  scientific  training  are 
sought,  it  is  essential  that  such  training  should  be 
real— that  is  to  say,  that  the  mind  of  the  scholar 
should  be  brought  into  direct  relation  with  fact; 
that  he  should  not  merely  be  told  a  thing,  but  made 
to  see,  by  the  use  of  his  own  intellect  and  ability, 
that  the  thing  is  so,  and  not  otherwise.    The  great") 
peculiarity  oi  scientific  training— that  in  virtue  of 
which  it  cannot  be  replaced  by  any  other  discipline 
whatever — is  this  bringing  of  the  mind  directly    ; 
into  contact  with  fact,  and  practising  the  mind  in 
the  eompletest  form  of  induction— that  is  to  say,  in    \ 
drawing  conclusions  from  particular  facts  made 
known  by  immediate  observation  of  Nature." 

To  the  same  effect  another  eminent  Science- 
teacher,  Mr.  Wilson,  of  Eugby  School,  thus  ex- 
presses himself:  '* Theory  and  experience,"  he 
says,  *' alike  convince  me  that  the  master  who  is 
teaching  a  class  quite  unfamiliar  with  scientific 
method,  ought  to  make  his  class  teach  themselves, 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  201 

by  thinking  out  the  subject  of  the  lecture  with 
them,  taking  up  their  suggestions  and  illustrations, 
criticising  them,  hunting  them  down,  and  proving 
a  suggestion  barren  or  an  illustration  inapt ;  start- 
ing them  on  a  fresh  scent  when  they  are  at  fault, 
reminding  them  of  some  familiar  fact  they  had 
overlooked,  and  so  eliciting  out  of  the  chaos  of 
vague  notions  that  are  afloat  on  the  matter  in 
hand,  be  it  the  laws  of  motion,  the  evaporation  of 
water,  or  the  origin  of  the  drift,  something  of  or- 
der, concatenation,  and  interest,  before  the  key  to 
the  mystery  is  given,  even  if  at  all  it  has  to  be 
given.  Training  to  think,  not  to  be  a  mechanic  or 
surveyor,  must  be  first  and  foremost  as  his  object. 
So  valuable  are  the  subjects  intrinsically,  and  such 
excellent  models  do  they  provide,  that  the  most 
stupid  and  didactic  teaching  will  not  be  useless; 
but  it  will  not  be  the  same  source  of  power  that  the 
method  of  investigation  will  be  in  the  hands  of  a 
good  master." 

My  last  quotation  will  be  from  the  very  valuable 
lecture  given  here  by  Dr.  Kemshead,  the  able 
Science-teacher  of  Dulwich  CoUege,  on  * '  The  Im- 
portance of  Physical  Science  as  a  Branch  of  Eng- 
lish General  Ejjucation."  Referring  to  education 
generally,  he  says,  and  I  entirely  agree  with  him : 
*'I  wish  it  particularly  to  be  borne  in  mind  that, 
whenever  I  use  the  word  education,  I  use  it  in  its 
highest  and  truest  sense  of  training  and  develop- 
ing the  mind.  I  hold  the  acquisition  of  mere  use- 
ful knowledge,  however  important  and  valuable  it 
may  be,  to  be  entirely  secondary  and  subsidiary. 
I  consider  it  to  be  of  more  value  to  teach  the  young 
mind  to  think  out  one  original  problem,  to  draw 


202  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

one  correct  conclusion  for  itself,  than  to  have  ac- 
quired the  whole  of  *  Mangnall's  Questions '  or 
*  Brewer's  Guide  to  Science.'  "  There  speaks  the 
true  teacher.  But  what  does  he  say  on  Science- 
teaching  ?  This :  *'  I  wish  particularly  to  draw  the 
distinction  between  mere  sc  ientific  knowledge  and 
scientific  training.  I  do  not  believe  in  the  former ; 
I  do  believe  in  the  latter.  In  physical  and  experi- 
mental science,  studied  for  the  sake  of  training, 
the  mode  of  teaching  is  everything.  I  know  of 
one  school  [we  shall  soon  see  that  there  are  many 
such]  in  which  physical  science  is  made  a  strong 
point  in  the  prospectus,  where  chemistry  is  taught 
by  reading  a  text-book  (a  very  antiquated  one, 
since  it  only  gives  forty-five  elements),  but  in 
which  the  experiments  are  learnt  by  heart,  and 
never  seen  practically.  Such  a  proceeding  is  a 
mere  farce  on  Science."  But  Dr.  Kemshead  pro- 
ceeds: '*0f  course,  as  mere  useful  knowledge, 
Lardner's  hand-books,  or  any  other  good  text- 
books, might  be  committed  to  memory.  So  long 
as  the  facts  are  correct,  and  are  put  in  a  manner 
that  the  pupil  can  receive  them,  the  end  is  gained ; 
but  this  is  not  scientific  teaching— cramming  if 
you  like,  but  not  teaching.  It  will^  I  am  sure,  be 
manifest  to  you  all  that  there  is  nothing  of  scien- 
tific training  in  this.  To  develop  scientific  habits 
of  thought — the  scientific  mind,  the  teaching  must 
be  of  a  totally  different  nature.  In  order  to  get 
the  fullest  benefit  from  a  scientific  education,  the 
teacher  should  endeavor  to  bring  his  pupil  face  to 
face  with  the  great  problems  of  Nature,  as  though 
he  were  the  first  discoverer.  He  should  encourage 
him  from  the  first  to  record  accurately  all  his  ex- 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  203 

periments,  the  object  he  had  in  view  in  making 
them,  the  results  even  when  they  have  failed,  and 
the  inferences  which  he  draws  in  each  case,  with 
as  much  rigor  and  exactitude  as  though  they  were 
to  be  published  in  the  'Philosophical  Transactions.' 
He  should,  in  fact,  teach  his  pupil  to  face  the  great 
problems  of  Nature  as  though  they  had  never  been 
solved  before." 

*'  To  face  the  great  problems  of  Nature  as  though 
they  had  never  been  solved  before" — "to  bring 
the  child  face  to  face  with  the  great  problems  of 
Nature,  as  though  he  were  the  first  discoverer  " — 
these  weighty,  pregnant,  and  luminous  expressions 
contain  the  essence  of  the  whole  question  I  have 
endeavored  to  set  before  you.  They  define,  as  you 
easily  perceive,  the  attitude  of  the  pupil  in  regard 
to  his  subjective  process  of  learning,  and  the  func- 
tion of  the  teacher  in  regard  to  his  objective  pro- 
cess of  teaching— the  one  being  the  counterpart  of 
the  other. 

It  will  have  been  noticed,  perhaps,  that  nothing 
has  been  said  of  text-books,  which  some  consider 
as  *'the  true  foundation  of  Science  teaching,"  The 
reason  of  this  omission  lies  in  the  nature  of  things. 
The  books  of  a  true  student  of  physical  Science  are 
the  associated  facts  and  phenomena  of  Nature.  He 
finds  them  in  ''the  running  brooks,"  the  mountains, 
trees,  and  rocks ;  wherever,  in  short,  he  is  brought 
face  to  face  with  facts  and  phenomena ;  these  are 
the  pages,  whose  sentences,  phrases,  words  and 
letters  he  is  to  decipher  and  interpret  by  his  own 
investigation.  The  intervention  of  a  text-book,  so 
called,  between  the  student  and  the  matter  he  is  to 
study,  is  an  impertinence.     For  what  is  such  a 


204  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

text-book?  A  compendium  of  observations  and 
experiments  made  by  others  in  view,  of  that  very 
nature-book  which,  by  the  hypothesis,  he  is  to 
study  at  first-hand  for  himself,  and  of  definitions, 
rules,  generatizations  and  classifications  which  he 
is,  through  the  active  powers  of  his  mind,  to  make 
for  himself.  The  student's  o  \vn  method  of  study  is 
the  true  method  of  Science.  He  is  being  gradually 
inifciatsd  in  the  processes  by  which  both  knowledge, 
truly  his  own,  and  the  power  of  gaining  more,  are 
secured.  Why  should  we  supersede  and  neutralize 
his  energies,  and  altogether  disorganize  his  plan  by 
requiring  him  to  receive  on  authority  the  results 
of  other  people's  labors  in  the  same  field  ?  Again, 
a  text-book  on  Science  is  a  logically-constructed 
treatise,  in  which  the  propositions  last  arrived  at 
by  the  author  are  presented  first — in  the  reverse 
order  to  that  followed  by  the  method  of  Science. 
The  sufficient  test  of  the  use  of  books  in  Science- 
teaching  is,  in  fact,  this:  Do  they  train  the  mind 
to  scientific  method  ?  If  they  do  not— if  on  the 
contrary,  they  discountenance  that  method — ^then 
they  are  to  be  rejected  in  that  elementary  work — 
the  foundation  of  Science-teaching — with  which 
alone  we  are  here  concerned.  Once  more,  I  appeal 
to  Professor  Huxley,  who  tells  us  that,  ' '  If  scien- 
tific education  is  to  be  dealt  with  as  mere  book- 
work,  it  wiU  be  better  not  to  attempt  it,  but  to  stick 
to  the  Latin  grammar,  which  makes  no  pretence  to 
be  anything  but  book-work."  Again,  in  his  Lecture 
t )  Teachers :  "But  let  me  entreat  you  to  remember 
isij  last  words.  Mere  book  learning  in  phyical 
Science  is  a  sham  and  a  delusion.  What  you  teach, 
unless  you  wish  to  be  impostors,  that  you  must 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  205 

first  know ;  and  real  knowledge  in  Science  means 
personal  acquaintance  with  the  facts,  be  they  few 
or  many."    But  I  must  add  to  these  authoritative 
words  those  of  Dr.  Acland,  who,  when  asked  by 
the  Public  Schools  Commission  his  opinion  of  the 
London  University  Examinations  in  Physical  Sci- 
ence, thus  replied:     '*I  may  say,  generally,  that  I 
should  value  all  knowledge  of  these  physical  sci- 
ences very  little  indeed  unless  it  was  otherwise 
than  book-work.    If  it  is  merely  a  question  of  get- 
ting up  certain  books,  and  being  able  to  answer 
certain  book  questions,  that  is  merely' an  exercise 
of  the  memory  of  a  very  useless  kind.    The  great 
object,  though  not  the  sole  object,  of  this  training 
should  be  to  get  the  boys  to  observe  and  under- 
stand the  action  of  matter  in  some  department  or 
another.    ...    I  want  them  to  see  and  know 
the  things,  and  in  that  way  they  will  evoke  many 
qualities  of  the  mind,  which  the  study  of  these 
subjects  is  intended  to  develop"  (vol.  iv.  p.,  407). 
These  words  sufficiently  show  both  what  the  true 
foundation  is,  and  what  it  is  not.    Once  more— for 
the  importance  of  this  matter  can  hardly  be  too 
much  insisted  on— hear  what  Professor  Huxley 
says,  in  his  evidence  before  the  Commission  on 
Scientific  Instruction  (p.  23) :     "The  great  blunder 
that  our  people  make,  I  think,  is  attempting  to 
teach  from  books ;  our  schoolmasters  have  largely 
been  taught  from  books,  and  nothing  but  books; 
and  a  great  many  of  them  understand  nothing  but 
book-teaching,  as  far  as  I  c^n  see.     The  conse- 
quence is,  that  when  they  attempt  to  deal  with 
scientific  teaching,  they  make  nothing  of  it.    If 
you  are  setting  to  work  to  teach  a  child  Science, 


206  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

you  must  teach  it  through  its  eyes,  and  its  hands, 
and  its  senses." 

I  do  not  for  a  moment  deny  that  much  is  to  be 
gained  from  the  study  of  scientific  text-books.  It 
would  be  absurd  to  do  so.  What  I  do  deny  is,  that 
the  reading  up  of  books  on  Science — which  is, 
strictly  speaking,  a  literary  study — either  is,  or  can 
possibly  be,  a  training  in  scientific  method.  To  re- 
ceive facts  in  Science  on  any  other  authority  than 
that  of  the  facts  themselves ;  to  get  up  the  observa- 
tions, experiments  and  comments  of  others,  instead 
of  observing,  experimenting  and  commenting  our- 
selves ;  to  learn  definitions,  rules,  abstract  proposi- 
tions, technicalities,  before  we  personally  deal  with 
the  facts  which  lead  up  to  them ;  all  this,  whether 
in  literary  or  scientific  education — and  especially  in 
the  latter — is  of  the  essence  of  cramming,  and  is 
therefore  entirely  opposed  to,  and  destructive  of, 
true  mental  training  and  discipline. 


PE8TAL0ZZI:    THE   INFLUENCE    OF  HIS 

PRINCIPLES    AND    PRACTICE     ON 

ELEMENTARY  EDUCATION. 

Familiar  as  Pestalozzi's  name  is  to  our  ears,  it 
will  hardly  be  pretended  that  he  himself  is  wall 
known  amongst  us.  His  life  and  personal  charac- 
ter—the work  he  did  himself,  and  that  which  he 
influenced  others  to  do— his  successes  and  failures 
as  a  teacher,  form  altogether  a  large  subject,  which 
requires,  to  do  it  justice,  a  thoughtful  and  length- 
ened study.  Parts  of  the  subject  have  been  from 
time  to  time  brought  very  prominently  before  the 
public,  but  often  in  such  a  way  as  to  throw  the  rest 
into  shadow,  and  hinder  the  appreciation  of  it  as  a 
whole.  Though  this  has  been  done  without  any 
hostile  intention,  the  general  effect  has  been  in  Eng- 
land to  misrepresent,  and  therefore  to  under- esti- 
mate, a  very  remarkable  man — a  man  whose  prin- 
ciples, slowly  but  surely  operating  on  the  pubhc 
opinion  of  Germany ;  have  suflSced,  to  use  his  own 
pithy  expression,  **  to  turn  right  round  the  car  of 
Education,  and  set  it  in  a  new  direction." 

One  of  the  aspects  in  which  he  has  been  brought 
before  us— and  it  deserves  every  consideration— is 
207 


208  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION. 

that  of  an  earnest,  self-sacrificing,  enthusiastic 
philanthropist,  endowed  with  what  Eichter  calls 
''an  almighty  love,"  whose  first  and  last  thought 
was  how  he  might  raise  the  debased  and  suffering 
among  his  countrymen  to  a  higher  level  of  happi- 
ness and  knowledge,  by  bestowing  upon  them  the 
blessings  of  education.  It  is  right  that  he  should 
be  thus  exhibited  to  the  world,  for  never  did  any 
man  better  deserve  to  be  enrolled  in  the  noble  army 
of  martyrs  who  have  died  that  others  might  live, 
than  Pestalozzi.  To  call  him  the  Howard  of  educa- 
tional philanthropists,  is  only  doing  scant  justice 
to  his  devoted  character,  and  under-estimates, 
rather  than  over-estimates,  the  man. 

Another  aspect  in  which  Pestalozzi  is  sometimes 
presented  to  us,  is  that  of  an  unhandy,  unpractical, 
dreamy  theorist ;  whose  views  were  ever  extending 
beyond  the  compass  of  his  control ;  who,  like  the 
djinn  of  the  Eastern  story,  called  into  being  forces 
which  mastered  instead  of  obeying  him;  whose 
**  unrivalled  incapacity  for  governing  "  (this  is  his 
own  confession)  made  him  the  victim  of  circum- 
stances ;  who  was  utterly  wanting  in  worldly  wis- 
dom; who,  knowing  man,  did  not  know  men;  and 
who,  therefore,  is  to  be  set  down  as  one  who 
promised  much  more  than  he  performed.  It  is  im- 
possible to  deny  that  there  is  substantial  truth  in 
such  a  representation ;  but  this  only  increases  the 
wonder  that,  in  spite  of  his  disqualifications,  he 
accomplished  so  much.  It  is  still  true  that  his 
awakening  voice,  calHng  for  reform  in  education, 
was  responded  to  by  hundreds  of  earnest  and  intel- 
ligent men,  who  placed  themselves  under  his  ban- 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  209 

ner,  and  were  proud  to  follow  whither  the  Luther 
of  educational  reform  wished  to  lead  them. 

A  third  view  of  Pestalozzi  presents  him  to  us  as 
merely  interested  about  elementary  education— and 
this  appears  to  many  who  are  engaged  in  teaching 
what  are  called  higher  subjects,  a  matter  in  which 
they  have  little  or  no  concern.  Those,  however, 
who  thus  look  down  on  Pestalozzi's  work,  only 
show,  by  their  indifference,  a  profound  want,  both 
of  self  knowledge,  and  of  a  knowledge  of  his  prin- 
ciples and  purpose.  Elementary  education,  in  the 
sense  in  which  Pestalozzi  understands  it,  is,  or 
ought  to  be,  the  concern  of  every  teacher,  whatever 
be  his  especial  subject,  and  whatever  the  age  of  his 
pupils ;  and  when  he  sees  that  elementary  education 
is  only  another  expression  for  the  forming  of  the 
character  and  mind  of  the  child,  he  must  acknowl- 
edge that  this  object  comes  properly  within  the 
sphere  of  his  labors,  and  deserves,  on  every  ground, 
his  thoughtful  attention. 

In  spite,  then,  of  Pestalozzi's  patent  disqualifica- 
tions in  many  respects  for  the  task  he  undertook ; 
in  spite  of  his  ignorance  of  even  common  subjects 
(for  he  spoke,  read,  wrote,  and  ciphered  badly,  and 
knew  next  to  nothing  of  classics  or  science);  in 
spite  of  his  want  of  worldly  wisdom,  of  any  compre- 
hensive and  exact  knowledge  of  men  and  of  things ; 
in  spite  of  his  being  merely  an  elementary  teacher, 
— ^through  the  force  of  his  all-conquering  love,  the 
nobihty  of  his  heart,  the  resistless  energy  of  his  en- 
thusiasm, his  firm  grasp  of  a  few  first  principles, 
his  eloquent  exposition  of  them  in  words,  his  reso- 
lute manifestation  of  them  in  deeds,— he  stands 
forth  among  educational  reformers   as  the  man 


210  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

whose  influence  on  education  is  wider,  deeper,  more 
penetrating,  than  that  of  all  the  rest— the  prophet 
and  the  sovereign  of  the  domain  in  which  he  lived 
and  labored. 

The  fact  that,  with  such  disqualifications  and 
drawbacks,  he  has  attained  such  a  position,  super- 
sedes any  argument  for  our  giving  earnest  heed  to 
what  he  was  and  what  he  did.  It  is  a  fact  preg- 
nant in  suggestions,  and  to  the  consideration  of 
them  this  Lecture  is  to  be  devoted. 

It  was  late  in  life—he  was  fifty-two  years  of  age 
— ^before  Pestalozzi  becarne  a  practical  schoolmas- 
ter. He  had  even  begun  to  despair  of  ever  finding 
the  career  in  which  he  might  attempt  to  realize  the 
theories  over  which  his  loving  heart  and  teeming 
brain  had  been  brooding  from  his  earliest  youth. 
He  feared  that  he  should  die,  without  reducing  the 
ideal  of  his  thought  to  the  real  of  action.* 

Besides  the  advanced  age  at  which  Pestalossi  be- 
gan his  work,  there  was  another  disabiUty  in  his 
case  to  which  I  have  not  referred.  This  was,  that 
not  only  had  he  had  no  experience  of  school  work, 
but  knew  no  eminent  teacher  whose  example  might 
have  stimulated  him  to  imitation ;  and  he  was  en- 
tirely ignorant  (with  one  notable  exception)  of  all 
writings  on  the  theory  and  practice  of  education. 
The  exception  I  refer  to  is  the  Emile  of  Rousseau,  a 

*  See  the  particulars  of  Pestalozzi's  life,  in  Mr.  Quick's  admira- 
ble Essays  on  Educational  Reformers  ;  in  Pestalozzi,  edited  for  the 
Home  and  Colonial  Society,  hy  Mr.  Dunn|p;ig',  in  Von  Raumer's 
History  of  Education ;  in  Roger  de  Guimps'  Histoire  de  Pestalozzi, 
de  sa  Pensee,  et  de  son  (Euvre,  Lausanne,  1874 ;  in  the  Life  and 
Work  of  Pestalozzi,  hy  Hermann  Krusi,  New  York,  1875  ;  and  in 
various  treatises  by  Mr.  Henry  Barnard,  late  of  the  State  Depart- 
ment of  Education,  Washington. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  211 

remarkablj-  suggestive  book,  which  made,  as  was 
to  be  expected,  a  strong  impression  on  his  mind. 
We  know  from  his  own  account,  that  he  had  al- 
ready endeavored,  with  indifferent  success,  to  make 
his  own  son  another  Enule.  The  diary  in  which  he 
has  recorded  day  by  day  the  particulars  of  his  ex- 
periment is  extremely  interesting  and  instructive. 

At  fifty-two  years  of  age,  then,  we  find  Pesta- 
lozzi  utterly  unacquainted  with  the  science  and  the 
art  of  education,  and  very  scantily  furnished  even 
with  elementary  knowledge,  undertaking  at  Stanz, 
in  the  canton  of  Unterwalden,  the  charge  of  eighty 
children,  whom  the  events  of  war  had  rendered 
homeless  and  destitute.  Here  he  was  at  last  in  the 
position  which,  during  years  of  sorrow  and  disap- 
pointment, he  had  eagerly  desired  to  fill.  He  was 
now  brought  into  immediate  contact  with  ignor- 
ance, vice,  and  brutahty,  and  had  the  opportunity 
for  testing  the  power  of  his  long-cherished  theories. 
The  man  whose  absorbing  idea  had  been  that  the 
ennobling  of  the  people,  even  of  the  lowest  class, 
through  education,  was  no  mere  dream,  was  now, 
in  the  midst  of  extraordinary  difficulties,  to  strug- 
gle with  the  solution  of  the  problem.  And  surely 
if  any  man,  conseiously  possessing  strength  to  fight, 
and  only  desiring  to  be  brought  face  to  face  with 
his  adversary,  ever  had  his  utmost  wishes  granted, 
it  was  Pestalozzi  at  Stanz.  Let  us  try  for  a  moment 
to  realize  the  circumstances — the  forces  of  the 
enemy  on  the  one^ide,  the  single  arm  on  the  other, 
and  the  field  of  the  combat.  The  house  in  which 
the  eighty  children  were  assembled,  to  be  boarded, 
lodged,  and  taught,  was  an  old  tumble-down  Ursu- 
line  convent,  scarcely  habitable,  and  destitute  of 


212  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

all  the  conveniences  of  life.  The  onlyapartment 
suitable  for  a  schoolroom  was  about  twenty-four 
feet  square,  furnished  with  a  few  desks  and  forms ; 
and  into  this  were  crowded  the  wretched  children, 
noisy,  dirty,  diseased,  and  ignorant,  with  the  man- 
ners and  habits  of  barbarians.  Pestalozzi's  only 
helper  in  the  management  of  the  institution  was  an 
old  woman,  who  cooked  the  food  and  swept  the 
rooms ;  so  that  he  was,  as  he  tells  us  himself,  not 
only  the  teacher,  but  the  paymaster,  the  man-ser- 
vant, and  almost  the  house-maid  of  the  children. 

Here,  then,  we  see  Pestalozzi  surroimded  by  a 
**sea  of  troubles,"  against  which  he  had  not  only 
**to  take  arms,"  but  to  forge  the  arms  himself. 
And  what  was  the  single  weapon  on  which  he  relied 
for  conquest?  It  was  his  own  loving  heart.  Hear 
his  words:— * 'My  wishes  were  now  accomplished. 
I  felt  convinced  that  my  heart  would  change  the 
conditioii  of  my  children  as  speedily  as  the  spring- 
tide sun  reanimates  the  earth  frozen  by  the  winter. 
Nor,"  he  adds,  'Vas  I  mistaken.  Before  the 
springtide  sun  melted  away  the  snow  from  our 
mountains,  you  could  no  longer  recognize  the  same 
children." 

But  how  was  this  wonderful  transformation 
effected  ?  What  do  Pestalozzi's  words  really  mean  ? 
Let  us  pause  for  a  moment  to  consider  them.  Here 
is  a  man  who,  in  presence  of  ignorance,  obstinacy, 
dirt,  brutality,  and  vice — enemies  that  will  destroy 
Mm  unless  he  can  destroy  if/iem— opposes  to  them 
the  unresistible  might  of  weakness,  or  what  appears 
such,  and  fights  them  with  his  heart ! 

Let  all  teachers  ponder  over  the  fact,  and  remem- 
ber that  this  weapon,  too  frequently  forgotten,  and 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  213 

therefore  unforged  in  our  training  colleges,  is  an 
indispensable  requisite  to  their  equipment.  Want- 
ing this,  all  the  paraphernalia  of  Uterary  certificates 
— even  the  diplomas  of  the  College  of  Preceptors- 
will  be  unavailing.  With  it,  the  teacher,  poorly 
furnished  in  other  respects  (think  of  Pestalozzi's 
literary  qualifications!),  may  work  wonders,  com- 
pared with  which  the  so-called  magician's  are  mere 
child's  play.  The  first  lesson,  then,  that  we  learn 
from  Pestalozzi  is,  that  the  teacher  must  have  a 
heart — an  apparently  simple  but  really  profound 
discovery,  to  which  we  cannot  attach  too  much  im- 
portance. 

But  Pestalozzi's  own  heart  was  not  merely  a 
statical  heart— a  heart  furnished  with  capabilities 
for  action,  but  not  acting;  it  was  a  dynamical 
heart — a  heart  which  was  constantly  at  work,  and 
vitalized  the  system.    Let  us  see  how  it  worked. 

"I  was  obliged,"  he  says,  ** unceasingly  to  be 
everything  to  my  children.  I  was  alone  with  them 
from  morning  to  night.  It  was  from  my  hand  that 
they  received  whatever  could  be  of  service  both  to 
their  bodies  and  minds.  All  succor,  all  consolation, 
all  instruction  came  to  them  immediately  from 
myself.  Their  hands  were  in  my  hand;  my  eyes 
were  fixed  on  theirs,  my  tears  mingled  with  theirs, 
my  smiles  encountered  theirs,  my  soup  was  their 
soup,  my  drink  was  their  drink.  I  had  around  me 
neither  family,  friends,  nor  servants;  I  had  only 
them.  I  was  with  them  when  they  were  m  health, 
by  their  side  when  they  were  ill.  I  slept  in  their 
midst.  I  was  the  last  to  go  to  bed,  the  first  to  rise 
in  the  morning.    When  we  were  in  bed,  I  used  to 


214  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

pray  with  them  and  talk  to  them  till  they  went  to 
sleep.    They  wished  me  to  do  so," 

This  active,  practical,  self-sacrificing  love,  beam- 
ing on  the  frozen  hearts  of  the  children,  by  degrees 
melted  and  animated  them.  But  it  was  only  by 
degrees.  Pestalozzi  was  at  first  disappointed.  He 
had  expected  too  much,  and  had  formed  no  plan  of 
action.  He  even  rather  prided  himself  upon  bis 
want  of  plan. 

''I  knew,"  he  says,  **no  system,  no  method,  no 
art  but  that  which  rested  on  the  simple  consequen- 
ces of  the  firm  belief  of  the  children  in  my  love 
towards  them.    I  wished  to  know  no  other." 

Before  long,  however,  he  began  to  see  that  the  re- 
sponse which  the  movement  of  his  heart  towards 
theirs  called  forth  was  rather  a  response  of  his  per- 
sonal efforts,  than  one  dictated  by  their  own  will 
and  conscience.  It  excited  action,  but  not  spon- 
taneous, independent  action.  This  did  not  satisfy 
him.  He  wished  to  make  them  act  from  strictly 
moral  motives. 

Gradually,  then,  Pestalozzi  advanced  to  the  main 
principles  of  his  system  of  moral  education— that 
virtue,  to  be  worth  anything,  must  be  practical; 
that  it  must  consist  not  merely  in  knowing  what  is 
right,  but  in  doing  it ;  that  even  knowing  what  is 
right  does  not  come  from  the  exposition  of  dogmatic 
precepts,  but  from  the  convictions  of  the  conscience ; 
and  that,  therefore,  both  knowing  and  doing  rest 
ultimately  on  the  enhghtenment  of  the  conscience 
through  the  exercise  of  the  intellect. 

He  endeavored,  in  the  first  place,  to  awaken  the 
moral  sense— to  make  the  children  conscious  of 
their  moral  powers,  and  to  accomplish  his  object, 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  215 

not  by  preaching  to  them,  though  he  sometimes  did 
this,  but  by  caUing  these  powers  into  exercise.  He 
gave  them,  as  he  tells  us,  few  explanations.  He 
taught  them  dogmatically  neither  morality  nor  re- 
ligion. He  wished  them  to  be  both  moral  and  re- 
ligious ;  but  he  conceived  that  it  was  not  possible 
to  make  them  so  by  verbal  precept,  by  word  of  com- 
mand, nor  by  forcing  them  to  commit  to  memory 
formularies  which  did  not  represent  their  own  con- 
victions. He  did  not  wish  them  to  say  they  be- 
lieved, before  they  believed.  He  appealed  to  what 
was  divine  in  their  hearts,  implanted  there  by  the 
Supreme  Creator ;  and  having  brought  it  out  into 
consciousness,  called  on  them  to  exhibit  it  in  action, 
**When,"  he  says,  **the  children  were  perfectly 
still;  so  that  you  might  hear  a  pin  drop,  I  said  to 
them,  *  Don't  you  feel  yourselves  more  reasonable 
and  more  happy  now  than  when  you  are  making  a 
disorderly  noise  V  When  they  clung  round  my 
neck  and  called  me  their  father,  I  would  say,  *Chil- 
dren,  could  you  deceive  your  father  ?  Could  you, 
after  embracing  me  thus,  do  behind  my  back  what 
you  know  I  disapprove  of?'  And  when  we  were 
speaking  about  the  misery  of  our  country,  and  they 
felt  the  happiness  of  their  own  lot,  I  used  to  say, 
*  How  good  God  is,  to  make  the  heart  of  man  piti- 
ful and  compassionate.' "  At  other  times,  after 
telling  them  of  the  desolation  of  some  family  in  the 
neighborhood,  he  would  ask  them  whether  they 
were  willing  to  sacrifice  a  portion  of  their  own  food 
to  feed  the  starving  children  of  that  family  ? 

These  instances  will  suflSce  to  show  generally 
what  Pestalozzi  meant  by  moral  education,  and 
how  he  operated  on  the  hearts  and  consciences  of 


216  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

the  children.  We  see  that,  instead  of  feeding  their 
imagination  with  pictures  of  virtue  beyond  and 
above  their  sphere,  he  called  on  them  to  exercise 
those  within  their  reach.  He  knew  what  their 
ordinary  family  life  had  been,  and  he  wished  to  pre- 
pare them  for  something  better  and  nobler ;  but  he 
felt  that  this  could  only  be  accomplished  by  making 
them,  while  members  of  his  family,  consciously  ap- 
preciate what  was  right  and  desire  to  do  it. 

Here  then,  in  moral  and,  as  we  shall  presently 
see,  in  intellectual  education,  Pestalozzi  proceeded 
from  the  near,  the  practical,  the  actual^to  the  re- 
mote, the  abstract,  the  ideal.  It  was  on  the  foun- 
dation of  what  the  children  were,  and  could  become, 
in  the  sphere  they  occupied,  that  he  built  up  their 
moral  education. 

But  he  conceived — and  justly — ^that  their  intel- 
lectual training  was  to  be  looked  on  as  part  of  their 
moral  training  Whatever  increases  our  knowl- 
edge of  things  as  they  are,  leads  to  the  appreciation 
of  the  truth ;  for  truth,  in  the  widest  sense  of  the 
term,  is  this  knowledge.  But  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge,  as  requiring  mental  effort,  and  there- 
fore exercising  the  active  powers,  necessarily  in- 
creases the  capacity  to  form  judgments  on  moral 
questions ;  so  that,  in  proportion  as  you  cultivate 
the  will,  the  affections,  and  the  conscience,  with  a 
view  to  independent  action,  you  must  cultivate  the 
intellect,  which  is  to  impose  the  proper  limits  on 
that  independenoe ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  in  pro- 
portion as  you  cultivate  the  intellect,  you  must 
train  the  moral  powers  which  are  to  carry  its  de- 
cisions into  effect.  Moral  and  intellectual  education 
must  consequently,  in  the  formation  of  the  human 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OB*  EDUCATION.  217 

being,  proceed  together,  the  one  stimulating  and 
maintaining  the  action  of  the  other.  Pestalozzi, 
therefore,  instructed  as  well  as  educated ;  and  in- 
deed educated  by  means  of  instruction.  In  carry- 
ing out  this  object,  he  proceeded  from  the  near,  the 
practical,  the  actual,  to  the  remote,  the  abstract, 
and  the  ideal. 

We  shall  see  his  theoretical  views  on  this  point 
in  a  few  quotations  from  a  work  which  he  wrote 
some  years  before,  entitled  **  The  Evening  Hour  of 
a  Hermit. "    He  says : 

**  Nature  develops  all  the  human  faculties  by 
practice,  and  their  growth  depends  on  their  ex- 
ercise." 

**The  circle  of  knowledge  commences  close 
around  a  man,  and  thence  extends  concentrically." 

*' Force  not  the  faculties  of  children  into  the  re- 
mote paths  of  knowledge,  until  they  have  gained 
strength  by  exercise  on  things  that  are  near  them." 

"There  is  in  Nature  an  order  and  march  of  de- 
velopment. If  you  disturb  or  interfere  with  it, 
you  mar  the  peace  and  harmony  of  the  mind.  And 
this  you  do,  if,  before  you  have  formed  the  mind 
by  the  progressive  knowledge  of  the  realities  of 
life,  you  fling  it  into  the  labyrinth  of  words,  and 
make  them  the  basis  of  development." 

''  The  artificial  march  of  the  ordinary  school,  an- 
ticipating the  order  of  Nature,  which  proceeds  with- 
out anxiety  and  without  haste,  inverts  this  order 
by  placing  words  first,  and  thus  secures  a  deceit- 
ful appearance  of  success  at  the  expense  of  natural 
and  safe  development." 

In  these  few  sentences  we  recognize  all  that  is 


218  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

most  characteristic  in  the  educational  principles  of 
Pestalozzi. 
I  will  put  them  into  another  form : — 

(1)  There  is  a  natural  order  in  which  the  powers 
of  the  human  being  develop  or  unfold  themselves. 

(2)  We  must  study  and  understand  this  order  of 
Nature,  if  we  would  aid,  and  not  disturb,  the  de- 
velopment. 

(3)  We  aid  the  development,  and  consequently 
promote  the  growth  of  the  faculties  concerned  in 
it,  when  we  call  them  into  exercise. 

(4)  Nature  exercises  the  faculties  of  children  on 
the  realities  of  life — on  the  near,  the  present,  the 
actual. 

(5)  If  we  would  promote  that  exercise  of  the  fac- 
ulties which  constitutes  development  and  ends  in 
growth,  we  also,  as  teachers,  must,  in  the  case  of 
children,  direct  them  to  the  realitiee  of  life— to  the 
things  which  come  in  contact  with  them,  which 
concern  their  immediate  interests,  feelings,  and 
thoughts. 

(6)  Within  this  area  of  personal  experience  we 
must  confine  them,  until,  by  assiduous,  practical 
exercise  in  it,  their  powers  are  strengthened,  and 
they  are  prepared  to  advance  to  the  next  concen- 
tric circle,  and  then  to  the  next,  and  so  on,  in  un- 
broken succession. 

(7)  In  the  order  of  Nature,  things  go  before  words, 
the  realities  before  the  symbols,  the  substance  be- 
fore the  shadow,  We  cannot,  without  disturbing 
the  harmonious  order  of  the  development,  invert 
this  order.  If  we  do  so,  we  take  the  traveller  out 
of  the  open,  sunlit  high-road,  and  plunge  him  into 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  219 

an  obscure  labyrinth,  where  he  gets  entangled  and 
bewildered,  and  loses  his  way. 

These  are  the  fundamental  principles  of  Pestal- 
ozzi's  theory  of  intellectual  as  well  as  moral  educa- 
tion, and  I  need  hardly  say  that  they  resolve 
themselves  into  the  principles  of  human  nature. 

But  we  next  inquire.  How  did  he  apply  them  ? 
What  was  his  method  ?  These  questions  are  some- 
what embarrassing,  and,  if  strictly  pressed,  must 
be  answered  by  saying  that  he  often  apphed  them 
very  imperfectly  and  inconsistently,  and  that  his 
method  for  the  most  part  consisted  in  having  none 
at  all.  The  fact  is,  that  the  imrivalled  incapacity 
for  governing  men  and  external  things,  to  which 
he  confessed,  extended  itself  also  to  the  inner  re- 
gion of  his  understanding.  He  could  no  more  gov- 
ern his  conceptions  than  the  circumstances  around 
him.  The  resulting  action,  then,  was  wanting  in 
order  and  proportion.  It  was  the  action  of  a  man 
set  upon  bringing  out  the  powers  of  those  he  in- 
fluenced, but  apparently  almost  indifferent  to 
what  became  of  the  results.  His  notion  of  educa- 
tion as  development  was  clear,  but  he  scarcely 
conceived  of  it  as  also  training  and  discipline. 
Provided  that  he  could  secure  a  vivid  interest  in 
his  lesson,  and  see  the  response  to  his  efforts  in  the 
kindling  eyes  and  animated  countenances  of  his 
pupils,  he  was  satisfied.  He  took  it  for  granted 
that  what  was  so  eagerly  received  would  be  cer- 
tainly retained,  and  therefore  never  thought  of 
repeating  the  lesson,  nor  of  examining  the  product. 
He  was  so  earnestly  intent  upon  going  ahead,  that 
he  scarcely  looked  back  to  see  who  were  following; 
and  to  his  enormous  zeal  for  the  good  of  the  whole, 


230  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

often  sacrificed  the  interests  of  individuals.  This 
zeal  was  without  discretion.  He  forgot  what  he 
might  have  learned  from.  Rousseau — that  a  teacher 
who  is  master  of  his  art  frequently  advances  most 
surely  by  standing  still,  and  does  most  by  doing 
nothing.  In  the  matter  of  words,  moreover,  his 
practice  was  often  directly  opposed  to  his  prin- 
ciples. He  would  give  lists  of  words  to  be  repeated 
after  him,  or  learned  by  heart,  which  represent- 
ed nothing  real  in  the  experience  of  the  pupils.  In 
various  other  ways  he  manifested  a  strange  incon- 
sistency. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  these  drawbacks,  if  we  look  upon 
the  teacher  as  a  man  whose  especial  function  it  is, 
to  use  an  illustration  from  Socrates,  to  be,  as  it 
were,  the  accoucheur  of  the  mind,  to  bring  it  out 
into  the  sunlight  of  life,  to  rouse  its  dormant 
powers,  and  make  it  conscious  of  their  possession, 
we  must  assign  to  Pestalozzi  a  very  high  rank 
among  teachers. 

It  was  this  remarkable  instinct  for  developing 
the  faculties  of  his  pupils  that  formed  his  main 
characteristic  as  a  teacher.  Herein  lay  his  great 
strength.  To  set  the  intellectual  machinery  in 
motion— to  make  it  work,  and  keep  it  working; 
that  was  the  sole  object  at  which  he  aimed ;  of  all 
the  rest  he  took  little  account.  If  he  had  any 
method,  this  was  its  most  important  element.  But 
in  carrying  it  out,  he  relied  upon  a  principle  which 
must  be  insisted  on  as  cardinal  and  essential  in 
education.  He  secured  the  thorough  interest  of  his 
pupils  in  the  lesson,  and  mainly  through  their  own 
direct  share  in  it.  By  his  influence  upon  them  he 
got  them  to  concentrate  all  their  powers  upon  it ; 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  221 

and  this  concentration,  involving  self-exercise,  in 
turn,  by  reaction,  augmented  the  interest,  and  the 
result  was  an  inseparable  association  of  the  act  of 
learning  with  pleasure  in  learning.  Whatever  else, 
then,  Pestalozzi's  teaching  lacked,  it  was  intensely- 
interesting  to  the  children,  and  made  them  love 
learning. 

Consistently  with  the  principles  quoted  from  the 
*'  Evening  Hours  of  a  Hermit,"  and  with  the  prac- 
tice just  described,  we  see  that  Pestalozzi's  concep- 
tion of  the  teacher's  fimction  made  it  consist  pre- 
enunently  in  rousing  the  pupil's  native  energies, 
and  bringing  about  their  self -development.  This 
self-development  is  the  consequence  of  the 
self-activity  of  the  pupil's  own  mind— of  the 
experience  which  his  mind  goes  through  in 
dealing  with  the  matter  to  be  learned.  This 
experience  must  be  his  own ;  by  no  other  experience 
than  his  own  can  he  be  educated  at  all.  The  edu- 
cation, therefore,  that  he  gains  is  self -education ; 
and  the  teacher  is  constituted  as  the  stimulator  and 
director  of  the  intellectual  processes  by  which  the 
learner  educates  himself.  This  I  hold  to  be  the  cen- 
tralprinciple  of  all  education — of  all  teaching ;  and 
although  not  formerly  enunicated  in  these  words  by 
Pestalozzi,  it  is  clearly  deducible  from  his  theory. 

We  are  now  prepared  to  estimate  the  great  and 
special  service  which  Pestalozzi  did  to  education. 
It  is  not  his  speculative  theories,  nor  his  practice 
(especially  the  latter),  which  have  given  him  his 
reputation — ^it  is  that  he,  beyond  all  who  preceded 
him,  demanded  that  paramount  importance  should 
be  attached  to  the  elementary  stages  of  teaching, 
*'His  differentia,'*''  as  Mr.  Quick  justly  remarks. 


222  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

**is  rather  his  aim  than  his  method."  He  saw 
more  clearly  than  all  his  predecessors,  not  only 
what  was  needed,  but  how  the  need  was  to  be  sup- 
plied. Elementary  education,  in  his  view,  means 
not  definite  instruction  in  special  subjects,  but  the 
eliciting  of  the  powers  of  the  child  as  preparative 
to  definite  instruction, — it  means  that  course  of 
cultivation  which  the  mind  of  every  child  ought  to 
go  through,  in  order  to  secure  the  all-sided  develop- 
ment of  its  powers.  It  does  not  mean  learning  to 
read,  write,  and  cipher,  which  are  matters  of  in- 
struction, but  the  exercises  which  should  precede 
them.  Viewed  more  generally,  it  is  that  assiduous 
work  of  the  pupil's  mind  upon  facts,  as  the  building 
materials  of  knowledge,  by  which  they  are  to  be 
shaped  and  prepared  for  their  place  in  the  edifice. 
After  this  is  done,  but  not  before,  instruction  prop- 
er commences  its  systematic  work. 

This  principle  may  find  its  most  general  expres- 
sion as  a  precept  for  the  teacher  thus:— Ahvays 
make  your  pupil  begin  Ms  education  by  dealing 
with  concrete  things  and  facts,  never  with  abstrac- 
tions and  generalizations,  such  as  definitions,  rules, 
and  propositions  couched  in  words.  Things  first, 
afterwards  words— particular  facts  first,  after- 
wards general  facts,  or  principles.  The  child  has 
eyes,  ears,  and  fingers,  which  he  can  employ  on 
things  and  facts,  and  gain  ideas — ^that  is,  knowl- 
edge—from them.  Let  him,  then,  thus  employ 
them.  This  employment  constitutes  his  elemen- 
tary education— the  education  which  makes  him 
conscious  of  his  powers,  forms  the  mind,  and  pre- 
pares it  for  its  after  work. 

We  now  see  what  Pestalozzi  meant  by  elementary 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  223 

education.  The  next  question  is,  how  he  proposed 
to  secure  it.  Let  us  hear  what  he  himself  says : — 
"  If  I  look  back  and  ask  myself  what  I  have  really 
done  towards  the  improvement  of  elementary 
education,  I  find  that  in  recognizing  Observation 
(Anschauung)  as  the  absolute  basis  of  all  knowl- 
edge, I  have  established  the  first  and  most  impor- 
tant principle  of  instruction;  and  that,  setting 
aside  all  particular  systems,  I  have  endeavored  to 
discover  what  ought  to  be  the  character  of  instruc- 
tion itself,  and  what  are  the  fundamental  laws  ac- 
cording to  which  the  natural  education  of  the  hu- 
man race  must  be  conducted."  In  another  place 
he  says:  "  Observation  is  the  absolute  basis  of  all 
knowledge.  In  other  words,  aU  knowledge  must 
proceed  from  observation,  and  must  admit  of  being 
traced  to  that  source." 

Theword  Anschauung,  which  we  translate  gener- 
ally and  somewhat  vaguely  by  * 'Observation,"  cor- 
responds rather  more  closely  to  our  word  Percep- 
tion. It  is  the  mind's  looking  into,  or  intellectual 
grasping  of,  a  thing,  which  is  due  to  the  reaction 
of  its  powers,  after  the  passive  reception  of  impres- 
sions or  sensations  from  it.  We  see  a  thing  which 
merely  flits  before  our  eyes,  but  we  perceive  it  only 
when  we  have  exhausted  the  action  of  our  senses 
upon  it,  when  we  have  dealt  with  it  by  the  whole 
mind.  The  act  of  perception,  then,  is  the  act  by 
which  we  knom  the  object.  If  we  use  the  term  Ob- 
servation in  this  comprehensive  sense,  it  may  be 
taken  as  equivalent  to  Anschauung. 

Observation,  then,  according  to  Pestalozzi  (and 
Bacon  had  said  the  same  thing  before  him)  is  the 
absolute  basis  of  all  knowledge,  and  is,  therefore. 


224  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

the  prime  agent  in  elementary  education.  It  is 
around  this  theory,  as  a  centre  of  gravity,  that 
Pestalozzi's  system  revolves. 

The  demands  of  this  theory  can  only  be  satisfied 
by  educating  the  learner's  senses,  and  making  him 
by  their  use  an  accurate  observer — and  this  not 
merely  for  the  purpose  of  quickening  the  senses, 
but  of  securing  clear  and  definite  perceptions,  and 
this  again  with  a  view  to  lay  firmly  the  foundation 
of  all  knowledge.  The  habit  of  accurate  observa- 
tion, as  I  have  thus  defined  it,  is  not  taught  by 
Nature.  It  must  be  acquired  by  experience.  Miss 
Martineau  remarks:—'*  A  child  does  not  catch  a 
gold  fish  in  water  at  the  first  trial,  however  good 
his  eyes  may  be,  and  however  clear  the  water. 
Knowledge  and  method  are  necessary  to  enable 
him  to  take  what  is  actually  before  his  eyes  and 
under  his  hands;"  and  she  adds,  *' The  powers  of 
observation  must  be  trained,  and  habits  of  meth- 
od in  arranging  the  materials  piesented  to  the  eye 
[and  the  other  sense-organs]  must  be  acquired  before 
the  student  possesses  the  requisites  for  understand- 
ing what  he  contemplates."* 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  show  in  detail  what  is 
meant  by  the  education  of  the  senses.  This  educa- 
tion consists  in  their  exercise— an  exercise  which 
involves  the  development  of  all  the  elementary 
powers  of  the  learner.  Any  one  may  see  this  edu- 
cation going  on  in  the  games  and  employment  of 
the  kindergarten,  and  indeed  in  the  occupations  of 
every  little  child  left  to  himseK.    It  is,  therefore, 

*  See  some  excellent  remarks  on  this  subject  in  Miss  Youmans's 
essay  on  the  culture  of  the  observing  powers  of  children  in 
Second  Book  of  Botany.   New  York. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  225 

in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  term,  self-education. 
But  it  should  also  be  made  an  object  of  direct  atten- 
tion and  study,  and  lessons  should  be  given  for  the 
express  purpose  of  securing  it.  The  materials  for 
such  lessons  are  of  course  abundant  on  every  hand. 
Earth,  sky,  and  sea,  the  dwelling-house,  the  fields, 
the  gardens,  the  streets,  the  river,  the  forest— sup- 
ply them  by  thousands.  All  things  within  the  area 
of  the  visible,  the  audible,  and  the  tangible,  supply 
the  matter  for  such  object  lessons,  and  upon  these 
concrete  reahties  the  sense  may  be  educated.  Draw- 
ing, again,  and  moulding  in  clay,  the  cutting  out  of 
paper  forms,  building  with  wooden  bricks  or  cubes 
to  a  pattern,  are  all  parts  of  the  education  of  the 
senses,  and  at  the  same  time,  exercises  for  the  im- 
provement of  the  observing  powers.  Then,  again, 
measuring  objects  with  a  foot  measure,  weighing 
them  in  scales  with  real  weights,  gaining  the  power 
of  estimating  the  dimensions  of  bodies  by  the  eye, 
and  their  weight  by  poising  them  in  the  hand,  and 
then  verifying  the  guesses  by  actual  trial  —these, 
too,  are  valuable  exercises  for  the  education  of  the 
senses.  It  is  needless  to  particularize  further,  but 
who  does  not  see  that  such  exercises  involve,  not 
merely  the  training  of  the  senses,  but  also  the  cul- 
ture of  the  observing  powers  as  well  as  the  exercise 
of  judgment,  reasoning,  and  invention,  and  all  as 
parts  of  elementary  education  ?*  It  is  impossible 
to  exaggerate  their  value  and  importance. 

But  elementary  education,  rightly  understood, 
appHes  also  to  the  initiatory  stage  of  all  definite  in- 

*I  heg  very  strongly  to  recommend  to  all  teachers,  and  to 
mothers  who  teach  their  children,  a  most  valuable  little  book, 
written  by  the  late  Horace  Grant,  Exercises  for  the  Improvement 
of  the  Senses*   London. 


226  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

struction.  If  we  accept  Pestalozzi's  doctrine,  that 
all  education  must  begin  with  the  near,  the  actual, 
the  real,  the  concrete,  we  must  not  begin  any  sub- 
ject whatever,  in  the  case  of  children,  with  the  re- 
mote, the  abstract,  and  the  ideal— that  is,  never 
with  definitions,  generalities,  or  rules;  which,  as 
far  as  their  experience  is  concerned,  all  belong  to 
this  category.  In  teaching  Physics,  then,  we  must 
begin  with  the  phenomena  themselves ;  in  teaching 
Magnetism,  for  instance,  with  the  child's  actual  ex- 
periencejof  the  mutual  attraction  of  the  magnet  and 
the  steel  bar ;  Arithmetic  must  begin  with  counting 
and  grouping  marbles,  peas,  etc.,  not  with  abstract 
numbers;  Geometry,  not  with  propositions  and 
theorems,  but  with  observing  the  forms  of  solid 
cubes,  spheres,  etc. ;  Geography,  not  with  excur- 
sions into  unknown  regions,  but  with  the  school- 
room, the  house,  etc.,  thence  proceeding  concentric- 
ally; Language,  too,  with  observing  words  and 
sentences  as  facts  to  be  compared  together,  classi- 
fied, and  generalized  by  the  learner  himself.  In  all 
these  cases  the  same  principle  applies.  The  learner 
must  first  gain  personal  experience  in  the  area  of 
the  near  and  the  real,  in  which  he  can  exercise  his 
own  powers;  this  area  thus  becomes  the  known 
which  is  to  interpret  the  unknown,  and  thus  the 
principle  is  established  that  the  learner  educates 
himself  under  the  stimulation  and  direction  of  the 
educator. 

You  are  now,  I  presume,  aware  of  what  Pesta- 
lozzi  means  by  elementary  education ;  and  you  see 
that  it  resolves  itself  into  the  education  which  the 
learner  gives  himself  by  exercising  his  own  powers 
of  observation  and  experiment.    The  method  of 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  227 

elementary  education,  is,  therefore,  the  child's  own 
natural  method  of  gaining  knowledge,  guided  and 
superintended  by  the  formal  teacher. 

This  method  has  been,  by  Diesterweg,  an  eminent 
German  disciple  of  Pestalozzi,  strongly  distinguish- 
ed from  what  he  calls  the  Scientific  method— that 
which  is  employed  in  higher  instruction,  in  uni- 
versities and  colleges,  and  is  suitable  for  learners 
whose  minds  are  already  developed  and  trained. 
The  Elementary  method,  he  says,  is  inductive,  ana- 
lytic, inventive,  developing.  It  begins  with  indi- 
vidual things  or  facts,  lays  these  as  the  foundation, 
and  proceeds  afterwards  to  general  facts  or  princi- 
ples. The  Scientific  method,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
deductive,  synthetic,  dogmatic,  and  didactic.  It 
begins  with  definitions,  general  propositions,  and 
axioms,  and  proceeds  downwards  to  the  individual 
facts  on  which  they  are  founded. 

I  will  give  the  substance  of  his  further  remarks 
on  the  subject. 

In  learning  by  the  Elementary  method,  we  begin 
with  individual  things— facts  or  objects.  From 
these  we  gain  definite  ideas,  ideas  naturally  related 
to  the  condition  of  our  powers,  or  of  our  knowledge, 
as  being  the  result  of  our  own  personal  experience. 
Such  knowledge,  as  the  product  of  our  own  efforts, 
is  ours,  in  a  sense  in  which  no  knowledge  of  others 
can  ever  become  ours ;  and,  being  ours,  serves  as 
the  solid  basis  of  the  judgment  and  inductions  that 
we  are  able  to  form, — the  method  is  inditctive  be- 
cause it  begins  with  individual  facts. 

The  Scientific  method,  on  the  other  hand,  is  de- 
ductive, because  it  begins  with  general  principles, 
definitions,  axioms,  formulae,  etc. ;  that  is  to  say, 


228  THE  SCIENCE  AN1>  ART  OF  EBTTCATION. 

with  deductive  propositions  founded  on  facts  which 
the  learner  is  afterwards  to  know,  not  with  facts 
which  he  already  knows.  The  definitions,  etc.,  are 
constructed  for  him,  not  by  him.  They  are  the 
ready-made  results  of  the  exploration  of  others,  not 
the  gains  of  his  own.  The  deductive  method  pro- 
ceeds from  the  summit  to  the  foundation,  from  the 
unknown  to  the  known ;  the  inductive,  from  the 
foundation  to  the  summit,  from  the  known  to  the 
unknown. 

The  mind  dealing  wifch  individual  things,  and 
seeking  to  know  them,  has  no  choice  but  to  subject 
them  to  mental  analysis.  Every  individual  thing 
is  an  aggregate  of  elements,  which  can  only  be 
known  by  disintegration  of  the  compound.  Nature 
presents  us  with  no  element  whatever  alone  and 
simple.  The  Elementary  method,  therefore,  which 
requires  the  learner  to  perform  this  disintegration, 
is  analytical.  In  other  words,  as  resting  on  obser- 
vation and  experiment,  it  is  the  method  of  investi- 
gation. 

The  Scientific  method,  on  the  other  hand,  is  syn- 
thetic. It  performs  the  analysis  for  the  learner, 
and  hands  over  to  him  the  results.  It  directs  him 
to  re-construct  something,  the  form  of  which  he  has 
not  seen,  and  tells  him  at  every  moment  where  and 
how  he  is  to  place  the  materials.  He  does  not 
necessarily  know  what  he  is  constructing  until  the 
complete  form  is  before  him.  He  satisfies  the  de- 
mands of  the  method,  if  he  obeys  the  directions 
given  him.  He  is  not  required  to  observe  and  ex- 
periment— i,  e.,  to  investigate  for  himself. 

The  Elementary  method  is  inventive  (heuristic). 
It  places  the  learner  on  the  path  of  discovery,  and 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  329 

by  encouraging  spontaneity  and  independence, 
gives  free  scope  for  the  exercise  of  all  his  powers. 
It  suggests  to  him  new  combinations  of  ideas  al- 
ready acquired,  and  the  solution  of  difficulties  which 
come  in  his  way. 

The  spirit  of  the  Scientific  method  is  opposed  to 
invention.  It  didactically  furnishes  ready-made 
matter  which  is  to  be  received,  not  questioned,  and 
dogmatically  prescribes  obedience  to  fixed  rules. 
It  consequently  checks  spontaneity,  independence, 
and  invention. 

The  scientific  method,  then,  as  thus  interpreted, 
though  adapted  to  students  of  high  pretensions,  is 
not  adapted  to  those  who  are  acquiring  the  elements 
of  knowledge-  The  mistake,  for  the  discovery  of 
which  we  are  indebted  to  Pestalozzi,  is,  that  in  our 
ordinary  traditional  teaching  the  Scientific  method 
has,  unfortunately,  come  to  be  employed  in  our 
schools  for  children  where  the  Elementary  method 
alone  is  natural  and  suited  to  the  circumstances. 
Pestalozzi's  eminent  claim  to  our  gratitude  consists 
in  the  service  he  has  done  to  education  by  *'  turning 
the  traditional  car  of  school  routine  quite  round, 
and  setting  it  in  a  new  direction." 

I  conclude  the  exposition  I  have  given  of  Pesta- 
lozzi's  fundamental  principles,  by  appending  a  sum- 
mary of  them. 

(1)  The  principles  of  education  are  not  to  be  de- 
vised ad  extra ;  they  are  to  be  sought  for  in  human 
nature, 

(2)  This  nature  is  an  organic  nature— a  plexus  of 
bodily,  intellectual,  and  moral  capabilities,  ready 
for  development,  and  struggling  to  develop  them- 
selves. 


230  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

(3)  The  education  conducted  by  the  formal  edu- 
cator has  both  a  negative  and  a  positive  side.  The 
negative  function  of  the  educator  consists  in  re- 
moving impediments,  so  as  to  afford  free  scope  for 
the  learner's  self -development.  The  educator's  posi- 
tive function  is  to  stimulate  the  learner  to  the  exer- 
cise of  his  powers,  to  furnish  materials  and  occasions 
for  the  exercise,  and  to  superintend  and  maintain 
the  action  of  the  machinery. 

(4)  Self -development  begins  with  the  impressions 
received  by  the  mind  from  external  objects.  These 
impressions  (called  sensations),  when  the  mind  be- 
comes conscious  of  them,  group  themselves  into 
perceptions.  These  are  registered  in  the  mind  as 
conceptions  or  ideas,  and  constitute  that  elemen- 
tary knowledge  which  is  the  basis  of  all  knowledge. 

(5)  Spontaneity  and  self -activity  are  the  necessary 
conditions  under  which  the  mind  educates  itself, 
and  gains  power  and  independence. 

(6)  Practical  aptness,  or  faculty,  depends  more 
on  habits  gained  by  the  assiduous  oft-repeated  exer- 
cise of  the  learner's  active  powers,  than  on  knowl- 
edge alone.  Knowing  and  doing  {wissen  und  kon- 
nen)  must,  however,  proceed  together.  The  chief 
aim  of  all  education  (including  instruction)  is  the 
development  of  the  learner's  powers. 

(7)  All  education  (including  instruction)  must  be 
grounded  on  the  learner's  own  observation  (Ans- 
chauung)  at  first  hand— on  his  own  personal  experi- 
ence. This  is  the  true  basis  of  all  his  knowledge. 
The  opposite  proceeding  leads  to  empty,  hollow, 
delusive  word-knowledge.  First  the  reality,  then 
the  symbol ;  first  the  thing,  then  the  word ;  not  vice 
versa. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  231 

(8)  What  the  learner  has  gained  by  his  own  obser- 
vation (Anschauung),  and,  as  a  part  of  his  personal 
experience,  is  incorporated  with  his  mind,  heJcnows, 
and  can  describe  or  explain  in  his  own  words.  His 
competency  to  do  this  is  the  measure  of  the  accu- 
racy of  his  observation,  and,  consequently,  of  his 
knowledge. 

(9)  Persona]  experience  necessitates  the  advance- 
ment of  the  learner's  mind  from  the  near  and  actual, 
with  which  he  is  in  contact,  and  which  he  can  deal 
with  himself,  to  the  more  remote ;  therefore,  from 
the  concrete  to  the  abstract,  from  particulars  to 
generals,  from  the  known  to  the  unknown.  This  is 
the  method  of  elementary  education ;  the  opposite 
proceeding— the  usual  proceeding  of  our  traditional 
teaching — leads  the  mind  from  the  abstract  to  the 
concrete,  from  generals  to  particulars,  from  the 
imknown  to  the  known.  This  latter  is  the  Scientific 
method— a  method  suited  only  to  the  advanced 
learner,  who,  it  assumes,  is  already  trained  by  the 
Elementary  method. 


FRCEBEL  AND  THE  KINDERGARTEN  SYS- 
TEM OF  ELEMENTARY  EDUCATION. 

Among  the  names  of  the  great  Eeformers  of 
Education,  there  is  one  which  has  not  yet  received 
that  honor  which  ifc  deserves,  and  with  which  I 
firmly  believe  the  future  will  invest  it.  It  is  that 
of  Friedrich  Wilhelm  August  Froebel.  His  claims 
to  distinction  among  educators  are,  however,  now 
extensively  allowed  in  his  native  land,  as  well  as 
in  Switzerland,  Holland,  France,  the  United  States, 
and  partially  even  in  England.  These  claims  are 
numerous,  and  of  great  importance.  While  many 
others  have  labored  with  greater  or  less  success  at 
the  superstructure  of  Education,  to  him  belongs 
the  special  credit  of  having  earnestly  devoted  him- 
self to  the  foundation.  While  others  have  taken 
to  the  work  of  Education  their  own  pre-conceived 
notions  of  what  that  work  should  be,  Froebel 
stands  consistently  alone  in  seeking  in  the  nature 
of  the  child  the  laws  of  educational  action — in  as- 
certaining from  the  child  himself  how  we  are  to 
educate  him. 

Further,  Froebel  is  the  first  teacher  to  whom  it 

has  occurred  to  convert  what  is  usually  considered 

the  waste  steam  of  childish  activities  and  energies 

into  means  of  fruitful  action ;  to  utilize  what  has 

232 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  233 

hitherto  been  looked  upon  as  unworthy  of  notice ; 
and,  moreover,  to  accomplish  this  object,  not  only 
without  repressing  the  natural  free  spirit  of  child- 
hood, but  by  making  that  free  spirit  the  very  in- 
strument of  his  purpose. 

In  laying  before  you  the  development  of  FroebeFs 
principlesr  of  elementary  education,  I  propose  to 
connect  with  this  development  a  sketch  of  the  per- 
sonal history  of  the  man.  We  shall  in  this  way 
learn  to  appreciate  not  only  the  principles  at  which 
he  ultimately  arrived,  but  the  mental  process 
which  led  to  them. 

Froebel  was  born  April  21,  1782,  at  Oberweiss- 
bach,  in  the  principality  of  Schwarzburg-Eudol- 
stadt.  His  mother  died  when  he  was  so  young 
that  he  never  even  remembered  her ;  and  he  was 
left  to  the  care  of  an  ignorant  maid-of- all -work, 
who  simply  provided  for  his  bodily  wants.  His 
father,  who  was  the  laborious  pastor  of  several 
parishes,  seems  to  have  been  solely  occupied  with 
his  duties,  and  to  have  given  no  concern  whatever 
to  the  development  of  the  child's  mind  and  char- 
acter beyond  that  of  strictly  confining  him  within 
doors,  lest  he  should  come  to  harm  by  straying 
away.  One  of  his  principal  amusements,  he  tells 
us,  consisted  in  watching  from  the  window  some 
workmen  who  were  repairing  the  church,  and  he 
remembered  long  afterwards  how  he  earnestly  de- 
sired to  lend  a  helping-hand  himself.  The  instinct 
of  construction,  for  the  exercise  of  which,  in  his 
system,  he  makes  ample  provision,  was  even  then 
stirring  within  him.  As  years  went  on,  though 
nothing  was  done  for  his  education  by  others,  he 
found  opportunities   for  satisfying  some   of  the 


234  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

longings  of  his  soul,  by  wandering  in  the  woods, 
gathering  flowers,  listening  to  the  birds,  or  the 
wind  as  it  swayed  the  forest  trees,  watching  the 
movements  of  all  kinds  of  animals,  and  laying  up 
in  his  mind  the  various  impressions  then  produced 
as  a  store  for  future  years.  He  was,  in  fact,  left  as 
much  to  educate  himself  through  nature  as  was 
the  Mary  Somerville  of  later  times.  Not  until  he 
was  ten  years  of  age  did  he  receive  the  sHghtest 
regular  instruction.  He  was  then  sent  to  school 
to  an  uncle  who  lived  in  the  neighborhood.  This 
man,  a  regular  driller  of  the  old,  time-honored 
stamp,  had  not  the  slightest  conception  of  the  in- 
ner nature  of  his  pupil,  and  seems  to  have  taken 
no  pains  whatever  to  discover  it.  He  pronounced 
the  boy  to  be  idle  (which,  from  his  point  of  view, 
was  quite  true)  and  lazy  (which  certainly  was  not 
true) — a  boy,  in  short,  that  you  could  do  nothing 
with.  And,  in  fact,  the  teacher  did  nothing  with 
his  pupil,  never  once  touched  the  chords  of  his  in- 
ner being,  or  brought  out  the  music  they  were  fit- 
ted, under  different  handling,  to  produce.  Froebel 
was  indeed,  at  that  time,  a  thoughtful,  dreamy 
child,  a  very  indifferent  student  of  books,  cordially 
hating  the  formal  lessons  with  which  he  was 
crammed,  and  never  so  happy  as  when  left  alone 
with  his  great  teacher  in  the  woods.  The  result 
was,  that  he  left  school,  after  four  years,  almost  as 
ignorant  as  when  he  entered  it,  carrying  with  him 
as  the  produce  of  his  labor  a  considerable  quantity 
of  chaff,  but  very  little  corn.  The  corn  consisted 
in  some  elementary  notions  of  mathematics,  a  sub- 
ject which  interested  him  throughout  his  life,  and 
which  he  brought  afterwards  to  bear  on  the  lessons 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  235 

of  the  Kindergarten.  Circumstances,  which  had 
proved  so  adverse  to  his  development  in  his  school 
experiences,  took  a  favorable  turn  in  the  next  step 
of  his  life.  It  was  necessary  for  him  to  earn  his 
bread,  and  we  next  find  him  a  sort  of  apprentice  to 
a  woodsman  in  the  great  Thuringian  forest.  Here, 
as  he  afterwards  tells  us,  he  lived  some  years  in 
cordial  intercourse  with  nature  and  mathematics, 
learning  even  then,  though  unconsciously,  from 
the  teaching  he  received,  how  to  teach  others.  His 
daily  occupation  in  the  midst  of  trees  led  him  to 
observe  the  laws  of  nature,  and  to  recognize  union 
and  unity  in  apparently  contradictory  phenomena. 
Here,  too,  he  reflected  on  his  previous  course  of 
education;  and  formed  very  decided  opinions  on 
the  utter  worthlessness  of  the  ordinary  school- 
teaching,  as  never  having  reached  what  was  in 
himself,  and,  therefore,  in  his  view,  failing  alto- 
gether to  be  a  true  culture  of  the  mind  and  of  the 
man.  His  life  as  a  forester,  which,  though  certain- 
ly not  without  great  influence  on  his  mental  charac- 
ter, was  not  to  be  his  final  destination,  ended  when 
he  was  about  eighteen  years  of  age.  He  now  went  to 
the  University  of  Jena,  where  he  attended  lectures 
on  natural  history,  physics,  and  mathematics ;  but, 
as  he  tells  us,  gained  little  from  them.  This  result 
was  obviously  due  to  the  same  dreamy  speculative 
tendency  of  mind  which  characterized  his  earlier 
school-life.  Instead  of  studying  hard,  he  speculat- 
ed on  unity  and  diversity,  on  the  relation  of  the 
whole  to  the  parts,  of  the  parts  to  the  whole,  etc., 
continually  striving  after  the  unattainable  and 
neglecting  the  attainable.  This  desultory  style  of 
life  was  put  an  end  to  by  the  failure  of  means  to 


236  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

stay  at  the  University.  For  the  next  few  years  he 
tried  various  occupations,  ever  restlessly  tossed  to 
and  fro  by  the  demands  of  the  outer  life,  and  not 
less  distracted  by  the  consciousness  that  his  powers 
had  not  yet  found  what  he  calls  their  *'  centre  of 
gravity.-'    At  last,  however,  they  found  it. 

While  engaged  in  an  architect's  office  at  Frank- 
fort, he  formed  an  acquaintance  with  the  Eector  of 
the  Model  School,  a  man  named  Gruner.  Gruner 
saw  the  capabilities  of  Froebel,  and  detected  also 
his  entire  want  of  interest  in  the  work  that  he  was 
doing;  and  one  day  suddenly  said  to  him:  "'  Give 
up  your  architect's  business ;  you  will  do  nothing 
at  it.  Be  a  teacher.  We  want  one  now  in  the 
school;  you  shall  have  the  place."  This  was  the 
turning  point  in  Frcebel's  life.  He  accepted  the  en- 
gagement, began  work  at  once,  and  tells  us  that 
the  first  time  he  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  a 
class  of  30  or  40  boys,  he  felt  that  he  was  in  the 
element  that  he  had  missed  so  long—"  the  fish  was 
in  the  water."  He  was  inexpressibly  happy.  This 
ecstasy  of  feeling,  we  may  easily  imagine,  soon 
subsided.  In  a  calmer  mood  he  severely  questioned 
himself  as  to  the  means  by  which  he  was  to  satisfy 
the  demands  of  his  new  position.  He  found  the 
answer,  he  says,  by  descending  into  himself,  and 
listening  to  the  teachings  of  nature  respecting  life, 
mind,  and  being — lessons  already  theoretically 
known,  but  now,  for  the  first  time,  correlated  with 
practice.  '  *  My  hitherto  pecuHar  development,  self- 
cultivation,  self -teaching,"  he  says,  "  as  well  as  my 
observation  of  nature  and  of  life,  now  found  their 
proper  place."  But  he  keenly  felt,  at  the  same 
time,  the  effects  of  his  desultory  manner  of  study. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  237 

He  was  neither  instructed  in  knowledge  nor  in 
teaching,  but  he  now  resolved  to  make  up  for  his 
deficiencies  in  both  respects.  About  this  time  he 
met  with  some  of  Pestalozzi's  writings,  which  so 
deeply  impressed  him  that  he  determined  to  go  to 
Yverdun  and  study  Pestalozzism  on  the  spot.  He 
accompHshed  his  purpose,  and  lived  and  worked 
for  two  years  with  Pestalozzi.  His  experience  at 
Yverdun  impressed  him  with  the  conviction  that 
the  science  of  Education  had  still  to  draw  out  from 
Pestalozzi's  system  those  fundamental  principles 
which  Pestalozzi  himself  did  not  comprehend. 
"And  therefore,"  says  Schmidt,  **this  genial  dis- 
ciple of  Pestalozzi  supplemented  and  completed  his 
system  by  advancing  from  the  point  which  Pestal- 
ozzi had  reached  through  pressure  from  without  to 
the  innermost  conception  of  man,  and  arriving  at 
the  thought  of  the  true  development  and  the  con- 
dition of  the  true  culture  of  mankind."  Feeling 
still  his  want  of  positive  knowledge,  Froebel  spent 
the  next  two  or  three  years  of  his  life  at  the  Uni- 
versities of  Gottingen  and  Berlin.  It  was  now, 
while  he  was  for  the  first  time  earnestly  engaged  in 
study,  that  his  views  on  Education  gradually 
gained  consistency  and  form,  * '  Our  greatest  edu- 
cators," he  says,  "even  Pestalozzi  himself  not  ex- 
cepted, appear  to  me  too  crudely,  empirically,  cap- 
riciously, and,  therefore,  unscientifically  to  allow 
themselves  to  be  led  away  from  nature  and  nature's 
laws ;  they  do  not  appear,  indeed,  to  recognize  hon- 
or, and  cultivate  the  divinity  of  science." 

It  would  only  be  tedious  to  relate  the  various 
preliminary  experiences  by  which  Froebel— some- 
times with  few,   sometimes  with  many  pupils  — 


238  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

sometinies  under  favorable,  at  other  times  under 
unfavorable  circumstances — pursued  his  course, 
until  the  moment  when  at  Blankenburg,  near  Eu- 
dolphstadt,  he  established,  about  the  year  1840,  the 
school  to  which  he  first  gave  the  name  of  Kinder- 
garten. In  this  name  he  wished  to  embody  two  of 
his  favorite  theoretical  notions:— the  one,  that  edu- 
cation, as  culture,  has  to  do  with  children  as  hu- 
man plants,  which  are  to  be  surrounded  with  cir- 
cumstances favorable  to  their  free  development, 
and  to  be  trained  by  means  suited  to  their  nature ; 
and  the  other,  that  a  school  for  little  children 
should  have  attached  to  it  a  garden,  in  which  they 
may  exercise  their  natural  taste  for  flowers,  and 
be  not  only  the  observers  but  the  cultivators  of 
plants.  Frcebel,  as  well  as  his  disciples  of  the  present 
day,  protested  against  the  application  of  the  name 
School  to  the  Kindergarten,  which  is,  in  their  view, 
a  place  for  the  development  of  the  activities  and 
capabilities  of  children  before  the  usual  school  age 
begins.  The  Kindergarten  proper  is  intended  for 
children  of  between  three  and  seven  years  of  age. 
Its  purpose  is  thus  briefly  indicated  by  himself : — 
*'  To  take  the  oversight  of  children  before  they  are 
ready  for  school  life;  or  exert  an  influence  over 
their  whole  being  in  correspondence  with  its  nature ; 
to  strengthen  their  bodily  powers ;  to  exercise  their 
senses;  to  employ  the  awakening  mind;  to  make 
them  thoughtfully  acquainted  with  the  world  of 
nature  and  of  man ;  to  guide  their  heart  and  soul 
in  a  right  direction,  and  lead  them  to  the  Origin  of 
all  life  and  to  union  with  Him." 

You  will  have  observed  already  that  in  this  pro- 
gram there  is  no  mention  made  of  reading,  writing 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  239 

and  arithmetic;  of  grammar,  geography  and  his- 
tory; of  rules,  precepts,  or  general  propositions; 
not  a  word  about  books,  not  even  of  instruction 
at  all  in  its  ordinary  sense ;  yet  you  will  also  have 
observed  that  there  is  ample  provision  for  activity 
and  energy  of  various  kinds — activity  of  limbs,  ac- 
tivity of  the  senses,  activity  of  the  mind,  heart, 
and  of  the  religious  instinct.  It  is  in  this  immense 
field  of  natural  energies  that  the  Froebelian  idea 
*' lives,  moves,  and  has  its  being."  You  will  fur- 
ther see  that  the  carrying  out  of  this  program  in- 
volves something  very  different  in  spirit  and  es- 
sence from  the  ordinary  course  of  an  English  in- 
fant school,  to  which  children  are  often  carried 
merely  '*  to  get  them  out  of  the  way." 

Having  said  at  the  commencement  of  this  lecture 
that  Froebel  as  an  educator  begins  at  the  very  be- 
ginning, I  ought  now  to  add  that  in  his  great  work, 
*'  On  the  Education  of  Man,"  he  takes  into  consid- 
eration the  circumstances  of  the  child  during  the 
period  which  precedes  the  Kindergarten  age,  and 
gives  many  valuable  hints  to  guide  the  mother, 
who  is  Nature's  deputy  and  helper,  for  the  first 
three  years  of  its  life.  As,  however,  to  describe  his 
views  and  plans  in  relation  to  that  period  would 
occupy  us  too  long,  I  confine  myself  to  the  Kinder- 
garten age. 

In  FroebePs  opinion,  the  mother  who  consults  the 
true  interests  of  her  child,  will,  when  he  is  three 
years  old,  give  him  up  to  the  governess  of  the 
Kindergarten.  In  this  respect  he  differed  from 
Pestalozzi,  who  thought  that  the  mother,  as  the 
natural  educator  of  the  child,  ought  to  retain  the 
charge  of  him  up  to  his  sixth  or  seventh  year.    It 


240  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

is  easy  to  see  that  if  this  opinion  be  acted  on,  the 
education  of  the  child  will  be  restricted  to  the  ex- 
perience of  the  family  circle.  According  to  Froebel 
this  basis  is  too  narrow.  The  family  circle  does  not 
generally  afford  a  sufficient  scope  for  the  develop- 
ment of  tliose  activities  which,  in  their  combina- 
tion, constitute  life.  A  system  of  education,  there- 
fore, founded  on  this  narrow  basis,  does  not  really 
prepare  the  child  for  that  intercommunion  and 
constant  intercourse  with  his  fellow  men  of  which 
hfe,  broadly  interpreted,  consists.  Froebel  more- 
over doubts,  with  much  reason,  whether  mothers 
generally  are  qualified  for  the  task  assigned  them 
by  Pestalozzi,  and  points  out  that,  if  they  are  not, 
the  child  must  suffer  from  their  incompetence, 
even  if  he  lose  nothing  through  neglect  occasioned 
by  the  demands  of  the  household  upon  their  time 
and  strength.  He,  therefore,  insists  that  in  order 
to  furnish  children  with  opportunities  for  display- 
ing and  developing  all  their  natural  capabilities, 
they  must  be  brought  together  in  numbers.  The 
mutual  action  and  reaction  of  forces  and  activities 
thus  necessitated  presents,  in  fact,  a  miniature  pic- 
ture of  the  larger  life  to  which  they  are  destined. 
The  passions,  emotions,  sufferings,  desires  of  our 
common  humanity,  have  here  both  scope  and  oc- 
casion for  their  fullest  manifestation ;  while  the  in- 
tellectual powers,  under  the  stimulus  of  inexhaust- 
ible curiosity  and  of  aptitude  for  imitation  and  in- 
vention, are  excited  to  constant  action.  At  the 
same  time  the  bodily  powers— hands,  feet,  muscles, 
senses — ^under  the  influence  and  impulse  of  com- 
panionship, are  more  actively  exercised,  and  the 
health  of  the  constitution  thereby  promoted,  while 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  241 

a  larger  and  better  opportunity  is  supplied  for 
learning  the  resources  of  the  mother-tongue.  The 
Kindergarten,  therefore,  for  its  full  development, 
requires  the  bringing  together  of  children  in  num- 
bers, in  order  that  they  may  not  only  be  educated, 
but  educate  themselves  and  each  other;  and  re- 
quires, moreover,  the  surrender,  on  the  mother's 
part,  of  the  charge  which  she  is,  as  a  rule,  unfitted 
to  discharge,  into  the  hands  of  those  who  under- 
stand, and  are  trained  for,  the  work.  This,  then, 
is  one  of  the  cases  in  which  Frcebel  takes  a  crude 
and  unconditioned  notion  of  Pestalozzi's,  and  or- 
ganizes it  into  a  clear  and  consistent  rule  of  ac- 
tion. 

But  we  are  still  only  standing  on  the  circumfer- 
ence of  Froebel's  expansive  idea  of  education.  Let 
us  now  enter  within  the  circle,  and  make  our  way 
to  the  center.  In  order  to  do  this  effectually,  lot  us 
form  a  conception  of  the  genesis  of  the  idea — an 
idea  not  less  distinguished  by  its  originality  as  a 
theory  than  by  its  far-extending  practical  issues. 

Let  us  imagine  to  ourselves  Frcebel,  after  pro- 
foundly studying  human  nature  in  general,  both  in 
books  and  life,  and  minutely  observing  and  study- 
ing the  nature  of  children;  in  possession,  too,  of  a 
large  theoretical  knowledge  of  education,  as  a 
means  for  making  the  best  of  that  nature ;  and,  at 
the  same  time,  impressed  with  a  sorrowful  convic- 
tion, founded  partly  on  his  own  experience,  that 
most  of  what  is  called  education,  is  not  only  un- 
natural, but  anti-natural,  as  failing  to  reach  the 
inner  being  of  the  child,  and  even  counteracting 
and  thwarting  its  spontaneous  development, — let 
us,  I  say,  imagine  Frcebel,  thus  equipped  as  an  ob- 


242  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

server,  taking  his  place  amidst  a  number  of  chil- 
dren disporting  themselves  in  the  open  air  without 
any  check  upon  their  movements. 

After  looking  on  the  pleasant  scene  awhile,  he 
breaks  out  into  a  soliloquy:  **  What  exuberant 
life  I  What  immeasurable  enjoyment!  What  un- 
bounded activity  I  What  an  evolution  of  physical 
forces !  What  a  harmony  between  the  inner  and 
outer  life !  What  happiness,  health,  and  strength ! 
Let  me  look  a  little  closer.  What  are  these  chil- 
dren doing  ?  The  air  rings  musically  with  their 
shouts  and  joyous  laughter.  Some  are  running, 
jumping,  or  bounding  along,  with  eyes  like  the 
eagle's  bent  upon  its  prey,  after  the  ball  which  a 
dexterous  hit  of  the  bat  sent  flying  among  them ; 
others  are  bending  down  towards  the  ring  filled 
with  marbles,  and  endeavoring  to  dislodge  them 
from  their  position ;  others  are  running  friendly 
races  with  their  hoops;  others  again,  with  arms 
laid  across  each  other's  shoulders,  are  quietly  walk- 
ing and  talking  together  upon  some  matter  in 
which  they  evidently  have  a  common  interest. 
Their  natural  fun  gushes  out  from  eyes  and  lips. 
I  hear  what  they  say.  It  is  simply  expressed, 
amusing,  generally  intelligent,  and  often  even  wit- 
ty. But  there  is  a  small  group  of  children  yonder. 
They  seem  eagerly  intent  on  some  subject.  What 
is  it  ?  I  see  one  of  them  has  taken  a  fruit  from  his 
pocket.  He  is  showing  it  to  his  fellows.  They 
look  at  it  and  admire  it.  It  is  new  to  them.  They 
wish  to  know  more  about  it — to  handle,  smell,  and 
taste  it.  The  owner  gives  it  into  their  hands ;  they 
feel  and  smell,  but  do  not  taste  it.  They  give  it 
back  to  the  owner,  his  right  to  it  being  generally 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  243 

admitted.  He  bites  it,  the  rest  looking  eagerly  on 
to  watch  the  result.  His  face  shows  that  he  likes 
the  taste ;  his  eyes  grow  brighter  with  satisfaction. 
The  rest  desire  to  make  his  experience  their  own. 
He  sees  their  desire,  breaks  or  cuts  the  fruit  in 
pieces,  which  he  distributes  among  them.  He  adds 
to  his  own  pleasure  by  sharing  in  theirs.  Sudden- 
ly a  loud  shout  from  some  other  part  of  the  ground 
attracts  the  attention  of  the  group,  which  scatters 
in  all  directions.  Let  me  now  consider.  What 
does  all  this  manifold  movement— this  exhibition 
of  spontaneous  energy— really  mean  ?  To  me  it 
seems  to  have  a  profound  meaning. 

It  means — 

**  (1)  That  there  is  an  immense  external  develop- 
ment and  expansion  of  energy  of  various  kinds- 
physical,  intellectual,  and  moral.  Limbs,  senses, 
lungs,  tongues,  minds,  hearts,  are  all  at  work— all 
co-operating  to  produce  the  general  effect. 

**  (2)  That  activity— doing— is. the  common  char- 
acteristic of  this  development  of  force, 

**(3)  That  spontaneity— absolute  freedom  from 
outward  control — appears  to  be  both  impulse  and 
law  to  the  activity. 

*' (4)  That  the  harmonious  combination  and  in- 
teraction of  spontaneity  and  activity  constitute  the 
happiness  which  is  apparent.  The  will  to  do 
prompts  the  doing ;  the  doing  reacts  on  the  will. 

**  (5)  That  the  resulting  happiness  is  independent 
of  the  absolute  value  of  the  exciting  cause.  A  bit 
of  stick,  a  stone,  an  apple,  a  marble,  a  hoop,  a  top, 
as  soon  as  they  become  objects  of  interest,  call  out 
the  activities  of  the  whole  being  quite  as  effectual- 
ly as  if  they  were  matters  of  the  greatest  intrinsic 


2^4:  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

value.  It  is  the  action  upon  them — the  doing  some- 
thing with  them — that  invests  them  with  interest. 

*'(6)  That  this  spontaneous  activity  generates 
happiness  because  the  result  is  gained  by  the  chil- 
dren's own  efforts,  without  external  interference. 
What  they  do  themselves  and  for  themselves,  in- 
volving their  own  personal  experience,  and  there- 
fore exactly  measured  by  their  own  capabilities, 
interests  them.  What  another,  of  trained  powers, 
standing  on  a  different  platform  of  advancement, 
does  for  them,  is  comparatively  uninteresting.  If 
such  a  person,  from  whatever  motive,  interferes 
with  their  spontaneous  activity,  he  arrests  the 
movement  of  their  forces,  quenches  their  interest, 
at  least  for  the  moment,  and  they  resent  the  inter- 
ference. 

' '  Such,  then,  appear  to  be  the  manifold  meanings 
of  the  boundless  spontaneous  activity  that  I  wit- 
ness. But  what  name,  after  all,  must  I  give  to  the 
totality  of  the  phenomena  exhibited  before  me  ?  I 
must  call  them  Play.  Play,  then,  is  spontaneous  ac- 
tivity ending  in  the  satisfaction  of  the  natural  de- 
sire of  the  child  for  pleasure — for  happiness.  Play 
is  the  natural,  the  appropriatebusiness  and  occupa- 
tion of  the  child  left  to  his  own  resources.  The 
child  that  does  not  play,  is  not  a  perfect  child.  He 
wants  something— sense-organ,  limb,  or  generally 
what  we  imply  by  the  term  health—to  make  up 
our  ideal  of  a  child.  The  healthy  child  plays- 
plays  continually — cannot  but  play. 

"But  has  this  instinct  for  play  no  deeper  sig- 
nificance ?  Is  it  appointed  by  the  Supreme  Being 
merely  to  fill  up  time  ? — merely  to  form  an  occasion 
for  fruitless  exercise  ? — merely  to  end  in  itself  ? 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  245 

No !  I  see  now  that  it  is  the  constituted  means  for 
the  unfolding  of  all  the  child's  powers.  It  is 
through  play  that  he  learns  the  use  of  his  limbs, 
of  all  his  bodily  organs,  and  with  this  use  gains 
health  a  ad  strength.  Through  play  he  comes  to 
know  the  external  world,  the  physical  qualities  of 
the  objects  which  surround  him,  their  motions,  ac- 
tion, and  re-action  upon  each  other,  and  the  rela- 
tion of  these  phenomena  to  himself;  a  knowledge 
which  forms  the  basis  of  that  which  will  be  his 
permanent  stock  for  life.  Through  play,  involving 
associateship  and  combined  action,  he  begins  to  re- 
cogize  moral  relations,  to  feel  that  he  cannot  live 
for  himself  alone,  that  he  is  a  member  of  a  com- 
munity, whose  rights  he  must  acknowledge  if  his 
own  are  to  be  acknowledged.  In  and  through  play, 
moreover,  he  learns  to  contrive  means  for  securing 
his  ends;  to  invent,  construct,  discover,  investi- 
gate, to  bring  by  imagination  the  remote  near,  and, 
further,  to  translate  the  language  of  facts  into  the 
language  of  words,  to  learn  the  conventionalities 
of  his  mother-tongue.  Play,  then,  I  see,  is  the 
means  by  which  the  entire  being  of  the  child  de- 
velops and  grows  into  power,  and,  therefore,  does 
not  end  in  itseK. 

"  But  an  agency  which  effects  results  like  these, 
is  an  education  agency;  and  Play^  therefore, 
resolves  itself  into  education  ;  education  which  is 
independent  of  the  formal  teacher,  which  the  child 
virtually  gains  for  and  by  himself.  This,  then,  is 
the  outcome  of  all  that  I  have  observed.  The  child, 
through  the  spontaneous  activity  of  all  his  natural 
forces,    is   rea,lly   developing   and   strengthening 


246  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

them  for  future  use ;  he  is  working  out  his  own  edu- 
cation. 

*'  But  what  do  I,  who  am  constituted  by  the  de- 
mands of  society  as  the  formal  educator  of  these 
children,  learn  from  the  insight  I  have  thus  gained 
into  their  nature  ?  I  learn  this— that  I  must  edu- 
cate them  in  conformity  with  that  nature.  I  must 
continue,  not  supersede,  the  course  already  begun ; 
my  own  course  must  be  based  upon  it.  I  must  rec- 
ognize and  adopt  the  principles  involved  in  it,  and 
frame  my  laws  of  action  accordingly.  Above  all, 
I  must  not  neutralize  and  deaden  that  spontaneity 
which  is  the  mainspring  of  all  the  machinery;  I 
must  rather  encourage  it,  while  ever  opening  new 
fields  for  its  exercise,  and  giving  it  new  directions. 
Play,  spontaneous  play,  is  the  education  of  little 
children ;  but  it  is  not  the  whole  of  their  education. 
Their  life  is  not  to  be  made  up  of  play.  Can  I  not 
tJicn  even  now  gradually  transform  their  play  in- 
work,  but  work  which  shall  look  like  play  ? — 
work  which  shall  originate  in  the  same  or  similar 
impulses,  and  exercise  the  same  energies  as  1  see 
employed  in  their  own  amusements  and  occupa- 
tions ?  Play,  however,  is  a  random,  desultory 
education.  It  lays  the  essential  basis,  but  it  does 
not  raise  the  superstructure.  It  requires  to  be  or- 
ganized for  this  purpose,  but  so  organized  that  the 
superstructure  shall  be  strictly  related  and  con- 
formed to  the  original  lines  of  the  foundation. 

^'Isee  these  children  delight  in  movement ;— they 
are  always  walking  or  running,  jumping,  hopping, 
tossing  their  limbs  about,  and,  moreover,  they  are 
pleased  with  rhythmical  movement.  I  can  con- 
trive motives  and  means  for  the  same  exercise  of 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  247 

the  limbs,  which  shall  result  in  increased  physical 
power,  and  consequently  in  health — shall  train  the 
children  to  a  conscious  and  measured  command  of 
their  bodily  functions,  and  at  the  same  time  be  ac- 
companied by  the  attraction  of  rhythmical  sound 
through  song  or  instrument. 

'^Isee  that  they  use  their  senses  ;  but  merely  at 
the  accidental  solicitation  of  surrounding  circum- 
stances, and  therefore  imperfectly.  I  can  contrive 
means  for  a  definite  education  of  the  senses,  which 
shall  result  in  increased  quickness  of  vision,  hear- 
ing, touch,  et  c,  I  can  train  the  purbhnd  eye  to 
take  note  of  dehcate  shades  of  color,  the  dull  ear  to 
appreciate  minute  differences  of  sound. 

**J  see  that  they  observe;  but  their  observations 
are  for  the  most  part  transitory  and  indefinite,  and 
often,  therefore,  comparatively  imfruitful.  I  can 
contrive  means  for  concentrating  their  attention 
by  exciting  curiosity  and  interest,  and  educate 
them  in  the  art  of  observing.  They  will  thus  gain 
clear  and  definite  perceptions,  bright  images  in  the 
place  of  blurred  ones,  will  learn  to  recognize  the 
difference  between  complete  and  incomplete  knowl- 
edge, and  gradually  advance  from  the  stage  of 
merely  knowing  to  that  of  knowing  that  they 
know. 

"  /see  that  they  invent  and  construct ;  but  often 
awkwardly  and  aimlessly.  I  can  avail  myself  of  this 
instinct,  and  open  to  it  a  definite  field  of  action.  I 
shall  prompt  them  to  invention,  and  train  them  in 
the  art  of  construction.  The  materials  I  shall  use 
for  this  end  will  be  simple ;  but  in  combining  them 
together  for  a  purpose,  they  will  employ  not  only 
their  knowledge  of  form,  but  their  imagination  of 


248  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

the  capabilities  of  form.  In  various  ways  I  shall 
prompt  them  to  invent,  construct,  contrive,  imi- 
tate, and  in  doing  so  develop  their  nascent  taste  for 
symmetry  and  beauty. 

**And  so  in  respect  to  other  domains  of  that 
child-action  which  we  call  play,  I  see  that  I  can 
make  these  domains  also  my  own.  I  can  convert 
children's  activities,  energies,  amusements,  occu- 
pations, all  that  goes  by  the  name  of  play,  into  in- 
struments for  my  purpose,  and,  therefore,  trans- 
form play  into  work.  This  work  will  be  education 
in  the  true  sense  of  the  term.  The  conception  of 
it  as  such  I  have  gained  from  the  children  them- 
selves. They  have  taught  me  how  I  am  to  teach 
them." 

And  now  Froebel  descends  from  the  imaginary 
platform  where  he  has  been  holding  forth  so  long. 
I  have  endeavored,  in  what  has  preceded,  to  give 
you  as  clear  a  notion  as  I  could  of  the  genesis  of 
his  root  idea;  and  I  may  say,  in  passing,  that  it  is 
well  for  you  that  I,  and  not  Froebel  himself,  have 
been  the  expositor ;  for  anything  more  cloudy,  in- 
volved, obscure,  and  mystical  than  Froebers  own 
style  of  writing  can  hardly  be  conceived.  It  has 
been  my  task  to  keep  the  clouds  out  of  sight,  and 
admit  upon  the  scene  only  the  genial  light  which 
breaks  out  from  between  them. 

Having  thus  brought  before  you  what  I  may  call 
Froebel's  statical  theory  of  the  education  of  little 
children  of  from  three  to  seven  years  of  age,  I  now 
proceed  to  describe  the  means  by  which  it  was 
made  dynamical— that  is,  exhibited  in  practice. 
But  before  I  do  so,  I  will  add  to  the  particulars  of 
his  life,  that  after  founding  the  Kindergarten  at 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  249 

Blankenburg,  and  carrying  it  on  for  some  years, 
he  left  it  to  establish  and  organize  others  in  various 
parts  of  Germany,  and  at  last  died  at  Liebenstein, 
June  21, 1852,  Thus  passed  away  a  man  of  remark- 
able insight  into  human  nature,  and  especially  in- 
to children's  nature, — of  wonderful  energy  of  char- 
acter when  once  roused  to  action,— of  all-pervad- 
ing philanthropy— a  man,  I  repeat,  to  whom  alone 
is  due  the  fruitful  and  original  conception  of  avail- 
ing himself,  as  a  teacher,  of  the  spontaneous  ac- 
tivities of  children  as  the  means  of  their  formal 
education,  and,  therefore,  of  laying  on  this  founda- 
tion the  superstructure  of  their  physical,  intel- 
lectual, and  moral  life. 

And  now  I  must  endeavor  to  give  some  notion  of 
the  manner  in  which  Froebel  reduced  his  theory  to 
practice.  In  doing  this,  the  instances  I  bring  for- 
ward, must  be  considered  as  typical.  If  you  ad- 
mit— and  you  can  hardly  do  otherwise — the  reason- 
ableness of  the  theory,  as  founded  on  the  nature  of 
things,  you  can  hardly  doubt  that  there  is  some 
method  of  carrying  it  out.  Now,  a  method  of  edu- 
cation involves  many  processes,  all  of  which  must 
represent  more  or  less  the  principles  which  form 
the  basis  of  the  method.  It  is  quite  out  of  my 
power,  for  want  of  time,  to  describe  the  various 
processes  which  exhibit  to  us  the  httle  child  pursu- 
ing his  education  by  walking  to  rhythmic  measure, 
by  gymnastic  exercises  generally,  learning  songs 
by  heart  and  singing  them,  practising  his  senses 
with  a  definite  purpose,  observing  the  properties  of 
objects,  counting,  getting  notions  of  color  and 
form,  drawing,  building  with  cubical  blocks,  mod- 
elHng  in  wax  or  clay,  braiding  slips  of  various 


250  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

colored  paper  after  a  pattern,  pricking  or  cutting 
forms  in  paper,  curving  wire  into  different  shapes, 
folding  a  sheet  of  paper  and  gaining  elementary- 
notions  of  geomentry,  learning  the  resources  of  the 
mother-tongue  by  hearing  and  relating  stories, 
fables,  etc. ,  dramatizing,  guessing  riddles,  working 
in  the  garden,  etc.,  etc.  These  are  only  some  of  the 
activities  naturally  exhibited  by  young  children, 
and  these  the  teacher  of  young  children  is  to  em- 
ploy for  his  purpose.  As,  however,  they  are  so 
numerous,  I  may  well  be  excused  for  not  even  at- 
tempting to  enter  minutely  into  them.  But  there 
is  one  series  of  objects  and  exercises  therewith 
connected,  expressly  devised  by  Froebel  to  teach 
the  art  of  observing,  to  which,  as  being  typical,  I 
will  now  direct  your  attention.  He  calls  these  ob- 
jects, which  are  gradually  and  in  orderly  succes- 
sion introduced  to  the  child's  notice,  Gifts— a  pleas- 
ant name,  which  is,  however,  a  mere  accident  of 
the  system ;  they  might  equally  well  be  called  by 
any  other  name.  As  introductory  to  the  series,  a 
ball  made  of  wool,  of  say  a  scarlet  color,  is  placed 
before  the  baby.  It  is  rolled  along  before  him  on 
the  table,  thrown  along  the  floor,  tossed  into  the 
air,  suspended  from  a  string,  and  used  as  a  pendu- 
lum, or  spun  round  on  its  axis,  or  made  to  describe 
a  circle  in  space,  etc.  It  is  then  given  into  his 
hand ;  he  attempts  to  grasp  it,  fails ;  tries  again, 
succeeds ;  rolls  it  along  the  floor  himself,  tries  to 
throw  it,  and,  in  short,  exercises  every  power  he 
hgcs  upon  it,  always  pleased,  never  wearied  in  do- 
ing something  or  other  with  it.  This  is  play,  but  it 
is  play  which  resolves  itself  into  education.  He  is 
gaining  notions  of  color,  form,  motion,  action  and 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OP  EDUCATION.  251 

re-action,  as  well  as  of  muscular  sensibility.  And 
all  the  while  the  teacher  associates  words  with 
things  and  actions,  and,  by  constantly  employing 
words  in  their  proper  sense  and  in  the  immediate 
presence  of  facts,  initiates  the  child  in  the  use  of 
his  mother-tongue.  Thus,  in  a  thousand  ways,  the 
scarlet  ball  furnishes  sensations  and  perceptions 
for  the  substratum  of  the  mind,  and  suggests  fitting 
language  to  express  them ;  and  even  the  baby  ap- 
pears before  us  as  an  observer,  learning  the  proper- 
ties of  things  by  personal  experience. 

Then  comes  the  first  G-tft.  It  consists  of  six  soft 
woollen  baUs  of  six  different  colors,  three  primary 
and  three  secondary.  One  of  these  is  recognized 
as  like,  the  others  as  unlike,  the  ball  first  known. 
The  laws  of  similarity  and  discrimination  are 
called  into  action ;  sensation  and  perception  grow 
clearer  and  stronger.  I  cannot  particularize  the 
numberless  exercises  that  are  to  be  got  out  of  the 
various  combinations  of  these  six  balls. 

The  second  Gift  consists  of  a  sphere,  cube,  and 
cylinder,  made  of  hard  wood.  What  was  a  ball 
before,  is  now  called  a  sphere.  The  different  ma- 
terial gives  rise  to  new  experiences ;  a  sensation, 
that  of  hardness,  for  instance,  takes  the  place  of 
softness;  while  varieties  of  form  suggest  resem- 
blance and  contrast.  Similar  experiences  of  like- 
ness and  unlikeness  are  suggested  by  the  behavior 
of  these  different  objects.  The  easy  roUing  of  the 
sphere,  the  sliding  of  the  cube,  the  roUing  as  well 
as  sliding  of  the  cylinder,  illustrate  this  point.  Then 
the  examination  of  the  cube,  especially  its  sur- 
faces, edges,  and  angles,  which  any  child  can  ob- 
serve for  himself,  suggest  new  sensations  and  their 


252  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

resulting  perceptions.  At  the  same  time,  notions 
of  space,  time,  form,  motion,  relativity  in  general, 
take  their  place  in  the  mind,  as  the  unshaped 
blocks  which,  when  fitly  compacted  together,  will 
lay  the  firm  foundation  of  the  understanding. 
These  elementary  notions,  as  the  very  ground- 
work of  mathematics,  will  be  seen  to  have  their 
use  as  time  goes  on. 

The  third  Gif  b  is  a  large  cube,  making  a  whole, 
which  is  divisible  into  eight  small  ones.  The  form 
is  recognized  as  that  of  the  cube  before  seen ;  the 
size  is  different.  But  the  new  experiences  consist 
in  notions  of  relativity—  of  the  whole  in  its  relation 
to  the  parts,  of  the  parts  in  their  relation  to  the 
whole ;  and  thus  the  child  acquires  the  notion  and 
the  names,  and  both  in  immediate  connection  with 
the  sensible  objects,  of  halves,  quarters,  eighths, 
and  of  how  many  of  the  small  divisions  make  one 
of  the  larger.  But  in  connection  with  the  third 
Gift  a  new  faculty  is  called  forth — Imagination, 
and  with  it  the  instinct  of  construction  is  awaken- 
ed. The  cubes  are  mentally  transformed  into 
blocks ;  and  with  them  building  commences.  The 
constructive  faculty  suggests  imitation,  but  rests 
not  in  imitation.  It  invents,  it  creates.  Those 
eight  cubes,  placed  in  a  certain  relation 
to  each  other,  make  a  long  seat,  or  a  seat 
with  a  back,  or  a  throne  for  the  Queen ;  or  again,  a 
cross,  a  doorway,  etc.  Thus  does  even  play  exhibit 
the  characteristics  of  art,  and  **  conforms  (to  use 
Bacon's  words)  the  outward  show  of  things  to  the 
desires  of  the  mind;''  and  thus  the  child,  as  I  said 
before,  not  merely  imitates,  but  creates.  And 
here,  I  may  remark,  that  the  mind  of  the  child  is 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  253 

far  less  interested  in  that  which  another  mind  has 
embodied  in  ready  prepared  forms,  than  in  the 
forms  which  he  conceives,  and  gives  outward  ex- 
pression to,  himself.  He  wants  to  employ  his  own 
mind,  and  his  whole  mind,  upon  the  object,  and 
does  not  thank  you  for  attempting  to  deprive  him 
of  his  rights. 

The  fourth,  fifth,  and  sixth  Gifts  consist  of  the 
cube  variously  divided  into  soHd  parallelepipeds, 
or  brick-shaped  forms,  and  into  smaller  cubes  and 
prisms.  Observation  is  called  on  with  increasing 
strictness,  relativity  appreciated,  and  the  oppor- 
tunity afforded  for  endless  manifestations  of  con- 
structiveness.  And  all  the  while  impressions  are 
forming  in  the  mind,  which,  in  due  time,  will  bear 
geometrical  fruits,  and  fruits,  too,  of  aesthetic  cul- 
ture. The  dawning  sense  of  the  beautiful,  as  well 
as  of  the  true,  is  beginning  to  gain  consistency  and 
power. 

I  cannot  further  dwell  on  the  numberless  modes 
of  manipulation  of  which  these  objects  are  capable, 
nor  enter  further  into  the  groundwork  of  prin- 
ciples on  which  their  eflS.ciency  depends. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  various  objections  have 
been  made  to  Froebers  method,  especially  by  those 
whose  ignorance  of  the  laws  of  mental  develop- 
ment disqualifies  them,  in  fact,  for  giving  an 
opinion  on  it  at  all,  and  also  by  others,  whose 
earnest  work  at  various  points  of  the  superstruc- 
ture so  absorbs  their  energies  that  they  have  none 
to  spare  for  considering  the  foundation.  But  even 
among  those  who  have  considered  the  working  of 
mental  laws,  though  in  many  cases  from  the  stand- 
point of  a  favorite  theory,  there  are  some  who  still 


254  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

doubt  and  object.  I  will  attempt  to  deal  with  one 
or  two  of  their  objections.  It  is  said,  for  instance, 
without  proof,  that  we  demand  too  much  from 
little  children,  and,  with  the  best  intentions,  take 
them  out  of  their  depth.  This  might  be  true,  no 
doubt,  if  the  system  of  means  adopted  had  any- 
other  basis  than  the  nature  of  the  children ;  if  we 
attempted  theoretically,  and  without  regard  to  that 
nature,  to  determine  ourselves  what  they  can  and 
what  they  cannot  do;  but  when  we  constitute 
spontaneity  as  the  spring  of  action,  and  call  on 
them  to  do  that,  and  that  only,  which  they  can  do, 
which  they  do  of  their  own  accord  when  they  are 
educating  themselves,  it  is  clear  that  the  objection 
falls  to  the  ground.  The  child  who  teaches  him- 
self never  can  go  out  of  his  depth ;  the  work  he  ac- 
tually does  is  that  which  he  has  strength  to  do ;  the 
load  he  carries  cannot  but  be  fitted  to  the  shoulders 
that  bear  it,  for  he  has  gradually  accumulated  its 
contents  by  his  own  repeated  exertions.  This  in- 
creasing burden  is,  in  short,  the  index  and  result  of 
his  increasing  powers,  and  commensurate  with 
them.  The  objector  in  this  case,  in  order  to  gain 
even  a  plausible  foothold  for  his  objection,  must 
first  overthrow  the  radical  principle,  that  the  ac- 
tivities, amusements,  and  occupations  of  the  child, 
left  to  himself,  do  indeed  constitute  his  earliest 
education,  and  that  it  is  an  education  which  he  vir- 
tually gives  himself. 

Another  side  of  this  objection,  which  is  not  un- 
frequently  presented  to  us,  derives  its  plausibility 
from  the  assumed  incapacity  of  children.  The  ob- 
jector points  to  this  child  or  that,  and  denounces 
him  as  stupid  and  incapable.    Can  the  objector, 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION.  255 

however,  take  upon  himself  to  declare  that  this  or 
that  child  has  not  been  made  stupid  even  by  the 
very  means  employed  to  teach  him  ?  The  test, 
however,  is  a  practical  one :  Can  the  child  play  ?  If 
he  can  play,  in  the  sense  which  I  have  given  to  the 
word,  he  cannot  be  stupid.  In  his  play  he  em- 
ploys the  very  faculties  which  are  required  for  his 
formal  education.  "But  he  is  stupid  at  his  books." 
If  this  is  so,  then  the  logical  conclusion  is,  that  the 
books  have  made  him  stupid,  and  you,  the  objec- 
tor, who  have  misconceived  his  nature,  and  acted 
in  direct  contradiction  to  it,  are  yourself  respon- 
sible for  his  condition. 

' '  But  he  has  no  memory.  He  cannot  learn  what 
I  tell  him  to  learn."  No  memory!  Cannot  learn! 
Let  us  put  that  to  the  test.  Ask  him  about  the 
pleasant  hohday  a  month  ago,  when  he  went  nut- 
ting in  the  woods.  Does  he  remember  nothing 
about  the  fresh  feel  of  the  morning  air,  the  joyous 
walk  to  the  wood,  the  sunshine  which  streamed 
about  his  path,  the  agreeable  companions  with 
whom  he  chatted  on  the  way,  the  incidents  of  the 
expedition,  the  cUmb  up  the  trees,  the  bagging  of 
the  plunder  ?  Are  all  these  matters  clean  gone  out 
of  his  mind  ?  '*  Oh  no,  he  remembers  things  hke 
these."  Then  he  has  a  memory,  and  a  remarkably 
good  one.  He  remembers,  because  he  was  interest- 
ed ;  and  if  you  wish  him  to  remember  your  lessons, 
you  must  make  them  interesting.  He  will  certain- 
ly learn  what  he  takes  an  interest  in. 

I  need  not  deal  with  other  objections.  They  all 
resolve  themselves  into  the  category  of  ignorance 
of  the  nature  of  the  child.  When  public  opinion 
shall  demand  such  knowledge  from  teachers  as  the 


256  THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION. 

essential  condition  of  their  taking  in  hand  so  deli- 
cate and  even  profound  an  art  as  that  of  training 
children,  all  these  Objections  will  cease  to  have  any- 
meaning.  - 


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NOTES  OF 

T?vIk5»nT«?vcKin^. 

Given  by  Francis  W.  Parker, 

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Before  the  Martha's  Vineyard  Summer  Institute. 

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Contents  of  "Reception  Day  No.  7. 

The  Best  of  its  Kind. 

-RECEPTION  DAY." 

A  Choice  Collection  of  Dialogues  and  Recitations  for 
the  use  of  Schools. 


ARTISTIC  PAPER  COVER.  30  CENTS  A  NUMBER. 


Easy  to  Criticise— Dialogue.       .  5 
The  Rehearsal.             Do.     .       ,8 

Better  Late  than  Never— Decla-  . 

mation.        .....  12 

The  Examination— Dialogue.     .  13 

Boys  of  No.  10— Song.    ...  15 

•'I  Can't."— Recitation.  .  .  16 
The  Watermill— Declamation.  .  17 
Christmas  Dialogue-  .  .  .19 
Swallowing  a  Fly— Declamati  on.  24 
For  Memorizing— Primary  C 1  ass.  26 
A  Stitch  in  Time  Saves  Nine- 
Dialogue 28 

Castles  in  the  Air— Recitation 

for  Boy  and  Girl.      ...  30 
The    RumseUer's    Speech— Dec- 
lamation   31 

Reading  of  the  Will— Dialogue.  32 
Days  that  are  Gone— Recitation.  34 
Court  Scene— Dialogue.  .  .  35 
Some  Little  Rules— Recitation.  40 
A  Boy's  Dream  of  Bliss— Decla- 
mation   41 

Don't  Whine— Declamation.       .  42 

Visit  to  the  Country— Dialogue.  43 

Cheek— Declamation     ...  47 

Labor— Recitation.         .       .       .  48 

The  Debating  Society  of  District 

Eleven— Dialogue.    .       .       .  49 

For  Memorizing— Primary  Class  54 
An  Old  Fable  Versified— Recita- 
tion.     .              ....  56 

What  Time  Is  It  ?— Recitation.  57 
Historical       Celebration  —  Dia- 
logue   58 

Look  Up,  Not  Down— Recitation.  65 

The  Way  to  Heaven.        Do.       .  66 

The  Gridiron— Dialogue.      .       .  67 

If  We  had  but  a  Day— Recitation  70 

By  and  By  Do.       .  71 

The   American  Ideal.— No.  I.— 

Recitation 72 

The  Model  Class— Dialogue.       .  73 

Work  and  Win— Recitation,       .  74 

Little  Things— Recitation.   ,       .  77 

Boys  Make  Men.       Do.         .       .  78 
Grammar    Under   DiflBculties— 

Dialogue 79 


Optimist    and     Pessimist— Dia- 
logue. ....  .81 

Young   America— Dialogue.  82 

For  Memorizing— Primary  Class.  90 
Perseverance  Does  It— Dialogue.  94 
Let  It  Pass— Song.        .  96 

Our  Dead  Heroes— Recitation.  .  97 
The  Cheerful  Voice.  Do.  .  .  98 
Opening     Piece  —  Dialogue    in 

verse 98 

Who  is  the  Greatest  ?— Dialogue.  100 
Employ  Your   Own  Intellect- 
Declamation 100 

A  Short  Sermon   on  Tobacco- 
Declamation 102 

The  Sign  Board— Recitation,  .  103 
Round  of  Life.  Do.  ;  104 
Punctuality— No.  1.— Dialogue  .  105 
Punctuality— No.  2.  Do.  .  106 
Is  It  Worth  While— Recitation.  108 
For  Memorizing— Primary  Class  109 
A  Jolly  Old  Pedagogue— Recita- 
tion  112 

Ferguson's  Cat— Humorous  Re- 
citation  114 

The  Happy   Family— Dialogue.  115 
Strive  for   the    Best— Declama- 
tion  118 

Summer— Declamation.       .       .  119 
An  American  Ideal— No^II — Rec- 
itation  120 

A  Little  Girl's  Fancies— Recita- 
tion.    .....  121 

Procrastination— Dialogue.        .  122 
Mrs.  Hubbard— Declamation.     .  125 
The    Wonderful     Speller— Dia- 
logue.   125 

A  Hymn  to  the  Conquered— Re- 
citation  127 

The  American  Flag— Dialogue.  128 
A  Boy's  Plea— Recitation.  .  .  133 
Who  Shall  Vote  ?— Dialogue.  .  134 
Success  in  Life- Declamation.  141 
Better  than  Gold—Recitation.  143 
Valedictory.  .  .  .  .143 
Opening  and  Closing  Addresses.  14& 
A  Little  Gentleman— Declama- 
tion  147 


E. 


L.  KELLOGG  &  CO., 

EDUCATIONAL  PUBLISHERS, 

21  Park  Place,  N.  Y.  City. 


SONG  TREASURES. 


For  Schools,  Teachers'  Institutes,  and  Hormal  Schools. 

CompUed  By  AMOS  M.  KELLOGG, 

EdUor  of  SCHOOL  JOURNAL,  TEACHERS*  INSTITUTE,  etc. 


CONTENTS  OF  NO.  1. 


Ask  the  Children 14 

America 18 

Bethou,  OGod 18 

Come,  Come  here,  Round 11 

Come  and  See  How  Happily. .  17 

Children,  Join 19 

Days  of  Summer  Glory 12 

Follow  me,  Full  of  Glee 4 

Father,  Once  More. . .  18 

Father  of  Mercies 19 

Gracious  God 2 

God's  Love 18 

Invitation  to  Sing* 7 

Long",  Long"  Ago 8 

Evening"  Song 5 

Nearer  To  Thee 19 

Once  More  the  Light 2 

Keck  of  A^es ...2 


Scatter  the  Germs 3 

Spring 16 

The  Wander-Staff 6 

The  Dearest  Spot 9 

The  Wanderer's  Joys 15 

The  Sweet  VaUey  17 

Those  Evening  BeUs 5 

The  Cuckoo 8 

The  Evening  Twilight 11 

This  Morning,  Lord 2 

Thus  Far  the  Lord 18 

We  Meet  Again       19 

We  Come,  We  Come 10 

We  Are  the  Jolliest  Set  of 

Boys 11 

What  Delight,  What  Joy 13 

Work  and  Play 3 

What  is  Time 6 


CONTENTS  OF  NO.  3. 


Beauty  Everywhere,  Round..  6 

Come,  Come,  Come 7 

Come,  Come  Here,  Round 3 

Cheerfulness 12 

Days  of  Summer  Glory 16 

Dear  Father 2 

Going"  to  School 33 

Home,  Sweet  Home .  4 

Hold  up  the  Right  Hand 8  i 

How    Can  I  Forget  Thee,         I 

.  Round 10  I 

in  the  Rosy  Light 19  i 

In  the  Glad  Morn 2 

Little  Things 9 

Lead  Kindly  Light *  • '  10 

Lightly  Row 5 

Little  Drops  of  Water 19 

Music  is  a  Blessing 11 

My  Maker  and  My  King 18 

Morning  Hymn  for  a  Child... .18 


Morning  Hymn 18 

O  Come  Maidens,  Come 16 

Praise 19 

Praise  to  God 2 

Sing  We  Together,  Round 8 

Sun  of  My  Soul 18 

Softly  Now  the  Light  of  Day  17 

The  Teacher's  Life 3 

The  Christmas  BeUs .17 

Try,  Try  Again ...  9 

Thou,  Poor  Bird,  Round 11 

The  Mower's  Song" 12 

The  Time  to  Walk 14 

The  Setting  Sun 14 

The  Brook 15 

There's  Not  a  Tint 19 

To  Thee  My  Righteous  King..  2 
Where    Shall  We  Find    Our 

Home 6 

While  my  Redeemer 2 


L.  KELLOGG  &  CO., 
Edtioational  Publishers, 

2 1  Park  Place^  New  York, 


A    MOST    VALUABLE    WORK! 


A  History  of  the  New  York 

With  Sketches  of  its  Presidents  and  other 
Prominent  Educators, 

By  HYLAND  C.  KIRK. 

Handsomely  bound  in  paper,  -witli  illustrated  cover,  price 

50  €ts.    A  few  copies  bound  in  cloth  $1.00.    Sent 

post-paid,  on  receipt  of  price. 

This  volume  gives  a  history  of  the  rise  and  progress  of  the 
New  York  State  Teachers'  Association.  Among  the  prominent 
edncators  sketched  are : 

Gideon  Hawley,  David  P.  Page,  Chester  Dewey,  Joseph 
M*Keen,  S.  B.  Woodworth,  Chas.  R.  Coburn,  J.  W,  Buckley, 
"> .  P.  Staunton,  Charles  Davies,  Victor  M.  Bice,  B,  D.  Jones, 
lieonard  Hazeltine,  Geo.  li.  Farnham,  Oliver  Arey,  J.  I^. 
McElligott,  E.  A.  Sheldon,  James  Cruikshank,  E.  C.  Pome« 
r"y»  J»  B.  Tliompson,  Edward  North,  James  Atwater,  S.  G. 
Williams,  J.  W.  Balder,  TV.  N.  Beid,  S.  D.  Barr,  J.  Dorman 
Steele,  J.  H.  Hoose,  Edward  Danforth,  A.  McMillan,  H.  B. 
Sanford,  N.  T.  Clarke,  Edward  Smith,  J.  W.  Mears,  C.  G. 
Brower,  James  Johonnot,  Jerome  Allen,  A.  B.  TVatkins, 
John  A.  Nichols,  H.  H.  Van  Dyck,  A,  B.  "Weaver,  Neil 
Gilmour,  S.  B.  Buggies,  F.  S.  Jewell,  Jonathan  Tenney,  E. 
V.  DeGraff,  Minnie  Sherwood,  Flora  Parsons,  Nellie  Lloyd 
Knox,  A.  J.  Bobb,  C.  T.  Barnes,  Warren  Higley,  H.  B.  Crut- 
tehden,  C.  T.  Pooler,  H.  C.  Northani,  John  Kennedy,  J.  H. 
French,  F.  P.  I^antry,  M.  Mc Vicar,  J.  W.  Armstrong,  G.  B. 
Perkins,  D.  H.  Cochrane,  Joseph  Alden,  C.  D.  Mcl^ean,  H, 
B.  Buckham,  F.  B.  Palmer,  J.  M.  Cassety,  W.  J.  Milne,  T.  J. 
Morgan,  E.  P.  Waterbury,  J.  B.  Wells,  O.  F.  Stiles,  E.  A. 
M'Math,  S.  G.  Cooke,  Geo,  V.  Chapin,  E.  W^ait,  G.  T.  Crum- 
bv,  John  V.  L..  Pruyn,  E.  C.  Benedict,  H.  B.  Pierson,  David 
Murray,  D.  J.  Pratt,  A.  Flack,  G.  K.  Cutting,  Sherman  Wil- 
liams, W.  F.  Towle,  Geo.  A.  Bacon,  J.  E.  King,  and  others. 

There  are  excellent  portraits  of  a  large  number  of  these  per- 
sons on  fine  tinted  paper.  This  history  of  the  Association  shows 
its  action  at  each  meeting,  and  the  connection  between  its  acts 
and  important  legislation  is  traced.  The  teachers  will  be  proud 
of  such  a  volume,  for  it  shows  the  Association  has  had  a  notable 
history.  Every  one  who  is  or  has  been  interested  in  the  schools  of 
New  York  will  want  this  book.  Only  a  limited  number  have  been 
printed ;  no  plates  were  made.  When  this  edition  is  gone  it  is 
quite  im probable  that  another  will  ever  be  printed.  The  prepara- 
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his  part  admirably.    Please  send  in  your  order  at  oncje. 

E.  L.  KELLOGG  &  CO., 

EDUCATIONAli  PUBIilSHEBS, 

SI  Park  Place,  New  Tork. 


543600 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


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